Heavy In Your Arms
by CharlieBravo
Summary: Sequel to Higher Sights. We pick up with Cal and Gillian a few weeks later - happy in their little bubble. And then the bubble bursts.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Didn't beta so spot me any errors you come across. Was supposed to be ready for Kat's birthday but alas, my muse had other plans. My dedication still stands though:)_

* * *

"I think I'll start here," Cal trailed his fingertips up Gillian's calf.

Her eyes fluttered lightly as his touch kept her from drifting off to sleep. She was naked and spent in his bed, after having devoted the entire evening to devouring each other in every way that they could. Taking advantage of the empty house, the lovers had systematically moved from the kitchen, to the lounge and then the staircase to finally end up in Cal's bedroom, leaving the remains of their unbridled passion in their wake.

"They will be punished," he continued as he brought his mouth to her leg and nipped lightly at it. "For taunting me in those heels all these years." He moved his attention all the way up her leg, blazing a trail of fire at every touch of his lips, and ended at her inner thigh.

"For torturing me with their look-but-can't-touch attitude." Cal bared his teeth and the nipping became biting.

It was hard enough to cause pain but not hard enough to stop the pleasure from circling in a warm pool between Gillian's legs. She let out a low, drawn out moan and the sound made Cal's already hard cock throb with yearning.

"And this," He heard Gillian's breath catch suddenly at the feel of his warm breath on her clit. "-will get the biggest punishment of them all."

"Oh god, Cal," her voice was wrought with desire.

"Shhh," he quieted her. "No talking."

Cal used his thumb to tease at her swollen nub, while he let a finger play at her entrance.

"What?"

He removed his hand from her and Gillian groaned in dismay at the sudden loss of sensation.

"My game; my rules." He eyed her mischievously.

Gillian started to protest but changed her mind when Cal straightened. She pursed her lips tightly to keep from speaking and watched him. Waited. A smile crept slowly onto his face and he nestled between her legs again, feeling himself get considerably harder as he breathed in her sweet smell. He brought his thumb to her clit again and started stroking it lightly. Without further fuss he slipped two fingers inside her - her wetness making the act an easy one. Gillian rocked her hips and pushed down on his hand, the increase in pressure sending her to new heights. Cal taunted her with a flick of his tongue and felt her writhe in response. Then he stopped.

"I think I'll leave this one for last," he teased and moved on. He needed to retain control and being that close to her deep pink presented a challenge that Cal wasn't quite ready for.

"Now these hips," he drew small circles with his finger, eliciting a quiver from Gillian. "They must be punished," Cal placed a kiss on her pelvis. "For mocking me in their perfectly tailored dresses."

He took a piece of her creamy skin between his teeth and Gillian ran her fingers through his hair, careful not to make a sound as she tilted her hips to him - beckoning him back to the swollen, hungry confines of her candy kiss.

"For screaming at me about the secrets they kept hidden," he ignored her, "the skill they could pleasure me with."

Cal traced wet kisses all along her abdomen up to her full breasts and heard Gillian's breathing get heavier when he reached her hardened nipples. His aching cock throbbed against her thigh and it was all he could do to not have his way with her right then. But he persevered; he had to keep to the game plan.

"And these," he let his moist lips graze her nipple and felt as her hips started their rhythmic rocking against his groin. She was driving him crazy.

"The biggest teasers of them all." He taunted her with his tongue, all the time aiming to elicit a sound from Gillian but the doctor didn't give him the satisfaction. Her lesson had been learned.

A soft glow of perspiration had formed on Gillian's forehead as she concentrated on staying silent – her mind disciplined but her body moving of its own accord, urgently rubbing itself against any inch of Cal it could find. His kisses moved slowly up to her collar bone and then her neck, where he lingered to drink in her familiar honey almond smell. Gillian felt his breath on her cheek as his mouth made its way along her jaw. She parted her lips in anticipation and lifted her head, her tongue hungrily darting out for him. But Cal was too quick in his retreat and she ended up barely brushing his lips.

"Dammit, Cal," her frustration was clear as she fell back onto the pillows.

In one swift movement Cal had positioned himself on top of her and, supporting his weight on one elbow, brought his cock to Gillian's already trembling entrance.

"What was that, love?" He dared her to speak. Gillian held his gaze unwaveringly, he was having too much fun with her. She needed to get a hold of herself. At the same time, she was not willing to sacrifice what was about to happen and knowing Cal, he really would stop what he was doing. So she met his gaze - defiant but selfishly silent.

Cal, his eyes not leaving hers, slipped his head into the slick warmth and pulled it out again. Gillian's body shuddered beneath his and he could feel that he was slipping further and further away from the measured control he had started with. Again, he slowly slipped in his tip. This time he kept it there, letting the feeling of almost-but-not-quite send Gillian over the edge. She clawed at his back as she tried to push him deeper but her efforts were in vain.

"Easy does it, Love," he whispered. "All good things come to those who," He slid into her completely then and she accepted him easily - her walls immediately contracting around him.

Gillian's climax was hard and consuming (and quiet). She clung to him as unspeakable pleasures swelled and surged through her entire being to find her nerve endings, where they enjoyed a scintillating repose. Her body mapped a mold around his shaft with no intention of release - wanting more, wanting him to fill her entirely, not being able to get enough. Cal pulled out again but before she could protest, he drove into her with such force she cried out. She stiffened as her own voice surprised her and expected her lover to stop what he was doing. But he didn't. Intsead, the motion was repeated, he thrust into her again and again until they found their rhythm; grinding hips and searching mouths telling of the love and lust each held for the other.

"Cal," she breathed the word, grateful the game had been abandoned and allowed herself to drown in him and the sensations he was orchestrating throughout her body. His movements became faster at the sound of her voice; more urgent.

"Harder," the moan was barely comprehensible but she grabbed at his butt and pulled him into her with added force to drive the message home.

Cal lifted himself for leverage, balancing on outstretched arms; flat palms on either side of her head. He was close. Gillian wasn't. He followed her cue and thrust into her harder and faster; bringing his fingers to her center, he worked an urgent kind of magic. Gillian felt the familiar tingling in her core and her eyes rolled back in her head as she felt her body start its ascent toward another climax. Cal's breath came in short, hot bursts in her neck and she felt him relinquish control as he emptied himself inside her at the precise moment she was sent into ecstasy.

He was still in the throes of his climax when, "Dad!" Emily's voice rang through the house.

Cal's head shot up from the spot in Gillian's neck where he had buried his face to muffle his call to god not a minute before. Taking for granted the fact that they were alone; the bedroom door was left ajar.

"Dad?" She was closer now. Cal quickly rolled from Gillian.

"Dad, are you-"

He had just about managed to cover himself with the sheet he had to scavenge from the floor when he looked up to find a wide-eyed Emily staring back at him. Out of breath and glowing from his recent workout, he decided that feigning anger would be the quickest way to get rid of her.

"You make a habit of just walking into people's personal space without knocking?"

"The door was open." Emily's shocked gaze moved from Cal to the defined bundle under the sheets next to him. "Who's that?" she asked innocently enough.

They hadn't really discussed the openness of their relationship but for the past few weeks, Cal and Gillian had pretty much existed in their own little bubble. The sneaking around added to the passion that was already seeping out of their pores. Stealing meaningful glances when others were around; moments of lust and hunger stilled in the confines of his study, bedroom, kitchen, staircase, car, her bedroom, shower, kitchen, car. They could not get enough of each other, as if they had to make up for all the years they were not together. It was thus, upon hearing Emily's voice, that Gillian's knee-jerk reaction was to pull the sheets up over her head.

Cal followed Emily's gaze to the conspicuous form next to him and his eyebrows shot up in surprise, as if he too had just learned of her presence. In his flurry to retain his dignity before his daughter walked in on them, he had missed Gillian's duck for cover.

"It's just my pillow, sweetheart," he said as he tried to hide his amusement.

"Did you find him?" A terrifyingly familiar voice came from behind Emily and the smirk on Cal's face fell away.

"Oh, nice Cal, really." Zoe chastised from beside Emily, arms folded across her chest.

"What?" Cal gave an innocent shrug. "It's my pillow."

"Em, go downstairs."

"I want to know who's under there." Emily's protests fell on deaf ears as she was ushered from the bedroom by Zoe, who closed the door behind her.

"Coast is clear, darling," Cal spoke to his sheet.

Gillian's arms exited first and she freed herself from her makeshift hideout. Cal laughed at the sight of her - face flushed and hair .

"I'm glad you think this is funny," she said, delivering a slap to his arm.

"You worked for the Pentagon and that's the best you could come up with?" He was really laughing now, reveling in Gillian's humiliation.

"How am I going to get out of here?" Gillian jumped up and started clutching at her clothes on the floor.

Cal licked his lips hungrily as he let his eyes feast on her while she hurriedly dressed herself.

"Looks like you're missing something." Gillian looked up to see him motion toward her crotch as her bare lady parts disappeared behind the buttons of her jeans.

"Cal, your wife and daughter are downstairs. How am I going to get out of here?"

Her panicked state did little to rattle Cal, who reclined comfortably, his sheets abandoning their original purpose as his hip flexors peeked seductively from their cover; a light trail of hair on his pelvis drew Gillian's eyes to the promise beneath the white covers. She shook her head to restore her focus and started pacing the room.

"Firstly, she's my ex," Cal corrected her, "and you could aways shimmy out the window?" he proffered. Gillian walked over to it and looked out.

"I was joking," he laughed again when he realized that she was actally considering it.

"It's not so bad," she said, ignoring him. "I can make it. Sure I can." Gillian spoke more to convince herself than him. "Tuck and roll, right?" She turned to find an astounded Cal looking back at her. "Don't just lay there – go downstairs and keep them distracted."

Cal rose slowly and started getting dressed under Gillian's impatient gaze.

"Some time today would be great."

"I'm going, I'm going," he said and planted a quick kiss on her cheek before he left.

* * *

"You," Cal started as he walked into the kitchen where Emily and Zoe were seated, "were only supposed to be back tomorrow." He grabbed the pack of crisps Emily was eating and made them his own.

"Mom talked me into throwing a going away party so we decided to come back early. Who's the girl?" Emily quickly and not surprisingly got straight to the point.

"So you're staying then?" Cal asked Zoe, not bothering to mask his disappointment or his blatant avoidance of Emily's question.

"Of course I'm staying. I'll head back once I know my daughter's safely on her way to Holland."

"Oh so you're staying that long?"

Zoe's response was a resigned eye-roll and then, "Who's the girl, Cal?"

He shifted uncomfortably and leaned against the counter, arms folded across his chest.

"What are you two on about? I told you what it was."

A loud knock stopped Emily's retort as she was about to make it. The three looked from one to the other before Zoe finally made a move to open the back door.

"Gillian, hi." Zoe stepped aside to let a relatively flustered looking Gillian in.

Her greeting to Emily was missed as the girl jumped up and ran to her father who had subsequently started choking.

"Dad, are you okay?" she asked as she hit him hard on the back.

The coughing and whooping subsided and Cal straightened. "Wrong pipe," he croaked as he met the alarmed stares from both his past and present. The last thing he expected was to see the good doctor in his kitchen after she was supposed to have made her stealthy getaway.

"Alright, Foster?" He hoped he sounded as nonchalant as he intended.

"Actually, no," the nervousness came through as distress and did well to sell her act. "My car broke down not too far from here."

"Oh yeah?" Cal played along, remembering that Gillian had gone in to work with him that morning and now obviously, needed a ride home.

"Do you think you could give me a ride?" Gillian had her best game face on and could feel the glances from Emily and Zoe flitting between her and Cal as they spoke.

"Yeah, yeah of course, let's go." Cal shoved the crisps into Zoe's hands as he made to follow Gillian who couldn't leave the house fast enough.

"This conversation isn't over!" he heard Emily call as he closed the door behind them.

* * *

They were barely inside when Gillian saw Cal's shirt fly past her head. She turned to find him hastily undressing.

"Well come on then," he said as he unbuckled his belt.

"Cal, we don't have to have sex every time we're-" the end of Gillian's sentence faded.

Cal had stepped out of his jeans and she immediately noticed his hard on as it strained against his boxers. She inhaled deeply and forced her eyes to meet his again. What she found was the hunger and lust that she had become so familiar with lately.

"Yeah," Cal said as he moved toward her, "that's what I thought."

He swept her into his arms and covered her mouth with his. Gillian felt his hands tighten on her waist as he hoisted her into the air and she wrapped her legs around him.

"Aaaaaaaaaah!"

She didn't know what startled her more; the scream from Cal or her ungraceful descent from his arms as she hit the ground.

"Fuck!" He cursed as he doubled over and held his back. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

Gillian couldn't help herself and laughed at the sight.

"Are you okay?" She got up slowly and tried to steady him. "Cal, honey?" when he didn't answer her.

"Fine. I'm fine." His voice was strained and he exhaled slowly as he attempted to come upright.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to carry yourself to the bedroom though, darling. I'll take it from there."

"Oh no," Gillian chuckled. "You're not taking anything tonight." She took hold of his arm and ushered him to her couch.

"I have to finish what I started," he protested.

"Cal, you're not exactly in your prime anymore. You can't go at it the way we've been without taking a break."

"Way to deflate a man's ego, Foster. Among other things," he added, gesturing to his fading hard-on.

"Sit," she ordered and pushed him down onto the couch. The motion clearly caused him pain as his face crumpled in a grimace.

"Easy does it, Love."

"Okay, now you stay there and I'm going to make us some tea."

"This is so embarrassing." Cal grabbed at one of the cushions and covered his face.

Gillian tried hard to bite back her laughter and patted his knee in exaggerated sympathy. "It's okay. I'm sure you'll make up for it tomorrow."

"If by tomorrow you mean in two or three days then yeah, I'll come out guns blazing," he said from under the cushion then lifted a corner of it to add, "And by guns, I mean cannon."

This time she did laugh as she went to the kitchen, leaving him to nurse his back and bruised ego.

* * *

Cal tried to remember the last time he had had to sneak into his own house. He made a noiseless entrance into the dark kitchen and started for the refrigerator when the lights suddenly came up.

"Did Gillian move to another city?" Zoe's voice drifted at him from somewhere close. He squinted as his eyes tried to adjust to the brightness.

When eventually he saw her standing right in front of him he responded, "What are you on about?"

"You've been gone for three hours."

"Believe it or not, all we did was talk." He sidestepped her and grabbed a beer from the fridge.

"Emily couldn't wait up for you. She wanted to talk about tomorrow night."

"I'll catch her in the morning. Not a problem." He leaned against the counter and gave Zoe the once over. "Why are you still here? If I may ask."

"I was doing laundry," she responded drily and tossed a jiffy bag at Cal. Surprised by the projectile coming for his head, Cal stumbled to catch it without dropping his beer.

"She's probably going to want that back."

He inspected the bag's contents and it didn't take him long to recognize Gillian's white cotton undies folded neatly inside. He looked up to find Zoe giving him a wry smile which he returned with an innocent shrug.


	2. Chapter 2

_Updates may be slower than I would like but they're coming! Thanks to all who reviewed:)_

* * *

"Zoe knows," Cal announced as he walked into Gillian's office.

She looked up, her hand holding a pen that looked precariously frozen in time as it rested in the corner of her mouth. Cal took a seat opposite her and put his feet up on her desk. Hands laced on his chest, he waited for her to speak. Gillian returned his gaze for a few seconds and then slowly closed the file she was reading.

"I knew you'd do this," she said, shaking her head. "I'm sure you get off on the fact that she knows about us." She shooed at his feet with both hands and he obediently lowered them.

"Goes without saying. But I didn't tell her."

"Then how does she know?"

Cal tossed the underwear-bearing jiffy bag onto her desk so that it landed in front of her. The color immediately rose to Gillian's cheeks as she grabbed at it.

"Oh my god, Cal!" She said as she quickly disposed of the evidence in her desk drawer.

"They've been cleaned, by the way," Cal added with a smirk.

He didn't hide the fact that he was enjoying Gillian's embarrassment.

"Your ex-wife washed my underwear? That is just-"

"Hilarious?" Cal laughed as Gillian glowered at him.

* * *

"Where did you disappear to last night?"

Cal opened one eye to see Emily walk into his office.

"Did you even come home?" she asked as she lifted his feet from the couch and sat down in their place.

Cal pulled himself into a sitting position.

"A little respect for the napping owner of a newly busy-once-again company," he barked. "And of course I came home last night. Where else would I have gone?"

Emily raised her eyebrows and smiled. "When I woke up this morning, you were gone and you never leave for work that early so I just assumed you had stayed over."

Cal frowned at her. "Have you been talking to your mum?"

"Yes, and also I'm not five."

He sat forward with his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands.

"Gillian's going to kill me."

"What? I think it's great. Why are you keeping it a secret?"

Cal sat up to look at her. "First tell me how you knew."

"Uh, her face. And also, you had the smell of sex all over the both of you."

"I didn't hear that. You didn't say that."

"A word of advice, Dad: take a shower next time. All evidence is not physical, you should know that."

"This conversation is over," he said and patted her knee before getting up.

"I'm glad this happened before I left," she continued, "Now you have someone to take care of you."

Cal stood at the door and held it open. "She would've taken care of me anyway, love." He motioned with his head for her to leave.

"I know and that's why she's perfect for you." Emily said as she walked toward him. "You guys are going to be really happy."

"We already are." Cal's response was sincere as he kissed her on the forehead. "Now get lost." He playfully pushed her out.

"I came by for another reason though."

"Let's have it then," he said impatiently.

"Mom is totally fine with it and-"

"Then the answer's no." He made to close the door but Emily stopped him.

"Seeing as how it's my farewell party and I will be under the supervision of both my parents, who are amazing by the way, I thought it would be okay if I had a beer – or two? – you know just to-"

Cal opened the door all the way and bore down on his teenage daughter.

"Are you of legal drinking age?" His sudden adoption of his no-nonsense-father tone set Emily on the defensive.

"Dad, just-"

"Answer the question," he interrupted.

"You're never rational when it comes to things like this."

"The question. Answer it." Cal raised his voice at her.

"No, but-"

"Then no," he ended firmly and disappeared into his office again, closing the door behind him.

* * *

"Em knows," Cal whispered into her ear as he came to stand behind Gillian in the lab. A hand moved to rest on her waist but he fought the feeling when he noticed Loker sitting a few feet away.

She turned to face him, "What? How?"

Cal's eyes moved to Loker again who didn't look up. Still, he didn't want to take any chances.

"Oi!"

"You know, some people need to work," Loker said as he rose from his desk, "If you want to have a private conversation, you both have beautiful offices to do it in," and left.

"That time of the month for him you think?"

"Cal, this is getting out of control," Gillian's panicked tone brought him back to the matter at hand.

"Again, not guilty," he said and raised his hands in a defensive gesture.

"Did Zoe tell her?"

"You know, while you're over there, dealing with Em finding out about us; I'm over here, dealing with the fact that my teenage daughter knows what sex smells like." Gillian's jaw dropped. "I know, I don't think I'll ever get used to that part. Not only that, but she was giving me advice on how to have sex without leaving evidence!"

This last bit made Gillian chuckle. She stifled it quickly though, when she realized that Cal was not in the slightest bit amused.

"I'm glad my pain elates you."

"It does not elate me. You're so dramatic," she said and stepped into his arms which wrapped around her as if by reflex.

"She's my baby girl," Cal pouted.

"I know," she kissed him lightly. "I know, honey."

"And she's going off into the cruel, heartless world in four days. To legally smoke marijuana and drink copious amounts of absinthe."

"I think it's good that she knows all that she does. It's better than being naïve about things. Emily's a smart kid and she won't be taken advantage of."

Cal smiled his gratitude at her for trying to make him feel better.

"So seeing as how this is taking on a life of its own, what do you say we come out at the party tonight?"

"Tonight is about Emily," Gillian opposed.

"You're assuming that people will care more about the fact that we're having incredible sex than Em going to Europe."

"Incredible? Really?"

"What do you mean? Yes, really."

"I'd lean more toward good-but-with-room-for-improvement," Gillian teased.

"Oh yeah?"

"But don't worry, we can slow things down," she continued, "and lying down, you know, for your back."

"Do you know what snarky gets you, Dr. Foster?"

She looked up at him questioningly, "Three minutes instead of five?"

"Well now you've just gone and earned yourself another punishment."

He lowered his mouth to hers.

"Promises, promises," she said as she surrendered wholeheartedly to his kiss.

* * *

_TBC_


	3. Chapter 3

_This took a bit of doing. A huge thanks to DivaKat for her brilliant eye and helping me iron this baby out. You are so the Queen! And to all my cheerleaders who ceaselessly, um, cheer;) I pushed to finish this because of you so thanks! And then there's you, Constant Reader, always you... Thanks again to all who RR&E'd. _

* * *

"It's a little tight."

"I could say the same about you." Cal adjusted the cloth over Gillian's eyes. "Now quit being such a baby and take your punishment with some dignity."

It had been about half an hour since Torres and Loker had left for Emily's party with promises from Cal and Gillian that they would be right behind them. That was not how things ended up though. Their intentions of leaving for the party faded to the place where all forgotten things go as they once again took advantage of the empty office building.

Gillian was kneeling in the middle of Cal's office. Blindfolded and clothed in only her bra, the rug under her was thin and didn't offer much in the way of comfort. She felt him move quietly behind her.

Since they had embarked on this new avenue of their relationship, Gillian had to admit that there had never been a dull moment. Cal was inventive and tireless in his efforts to satisfy her. He was insatiable and it made her feel more wanted and loved than she had ever felt. With any other man, the things Cal had her do would have made her self-conscious, uncomfortable even, but with him she felt safe.

"Are you ready to play?"

She startled. Although his voice was low, it came suddenly and from right next to her face. His breath played on her cheek as he spoke and she bit her lip as her body reacted in ways only he could evoke. Cal slowly lifted her arms above her head, fingers splayed with only the tips touching lightly.

"What are- " she stopped short and changed her question. "Am I allowed to talk in this one?"

"As long as it's relevant," he chuckled. He loved how adorable she could be without even trying.

"What are you doing?" she finished her original enquiry to a decided non-response from Cal.

His movement away from her created a chill and Gillian felt herself break into goose bumps.

"Could you turn up the heat a bit?"

"Patience, Love, I'm getting there," Cal responded.

"That's not what I–"

His hands were on hers again. He was placing something between her thumbs; something cold and hard. He did the same with the remaining fingers. Gillian felt his presence grow distant again and decided that she was holding onto coins of some sort. Or what felt like coins, anyway. She had no clue where this was going but her curiosity was piqued.

"Okay," his voice came from in front of her now and it sounded as if he was kneeling too. "Rules."

She could hear him smiling; feel his eyes sear her skin as they burned her form into his mind. Gillian wondered if he had undressed as well. The image of his naked form sprang into her mind and she felt a warmth spread over her, starting between her thighs and working its way to every inch of exposed flesh.

"One: You are not allowed to lower your arms at any time or I'll stop what I'm doing."

"Well, you better hurry up because I can't sit like this forever," Gillian said and shifted uncomfortably.

"Two:" Cal made no acknowledgement of her statement as he continued; his voice gravelly but steady. "Your hands are not allowed to touch."

"But-"

"Fingertips - because they have a job to do. Your palms however-"

Gillian felt Cal's hands slowly pull hers apart leaving them, once again, how he had placed them – only the fingertips touching.

"And finally, you can't drop the coins you're holding. If one of them falls, that's it. Game over."

"Cal, this is crazy. I can't –"

There was the lightest touch to her neck. Gillian's breath caught as Cal's fingers traced a path along her collar bone and down the sides of her breasts. She exhaled slowly, attempting to steady herself against the sudden torrent of electricity that coursed through her, awakened by Cal's touch. His mouth was on her now, placing soft kisses in her neck, on her jaw and then finally against her mouth. With his hands kneading her breasts as his thumbs awakened each nipple, Cal brushed his tongue along her lips and she parted them eagerly, but they were not rewarded. Instead, his attention moved on.

Gillian felt one hand snake down to the small of her back, while his other hand cupped her mound as familiar fingers searched between her folds for the knot of nerve endings that cried out for release. She held her breath as her arms began to tremble; her fingertips white as they pressed together in a kiss that would guarantee her climax. Cal's movements followed long, slow strokes and he felt her come to life under them. The color rose in her chest and face as he teased her clit, slowly... gently... almost absentmindedly. Gillian's body betrayed her as tremors moved up and down her arms in earnest. She steadied her breathing in a weak attempt to regain control.

And then he stopped.

His hands no longer on her, Gillian trained her ears for any sign of where he was or what he was doing. Her body burned with anticipation; not being able to see what his next move would be, where he would touch her, how he would touch her – she felt vulnerable but also painfully turned on by the game.

Out of nowhere, Gillian felt Cal's mouth take ownership of her hardened nipple as he tugged at it through its thin lace captor; his tongue, hot and wet, outlining invisible patterns as it flicked and circled the taut nub. She let out a deep, long moan as she arched her back, offering him more of her but was once again disappointed.

"Cal-"

"Shhh." He quieted her.

She felt him leave a trail of wet kisses along her abdomen and all the way down. His hands were on the inside of her thighs now, prompting her to widen her stance. She obeyed. A slight quiver started up in her legs caused by the strain they took from the awkward angle. She didn't know how much longer she could hold out.

And then his mouth.

On her.

Her breathing became shallow and fast as the last semblance of control vanished.

His tongue.

Searching.

It was building and swirling and climbing and threatening to take her over the edge.

His tongue. Oh god, his tongue.

She felt him use two fingers to further open her folds and then his mouth was back. Toying. Sucking. Teasing. Gillian let her head drop back, careful to keep her arms raised, as waves of pleasure stole through her body. Her legs were going numb, her arms ached under the strain of their mission but she was not about to give up. Not when she was this close. A groan of disappointment fell from her lips as he stopped. She felt him slowly move away.

And then his hands were on her hips.

_Was he behind her? _

Pulling her back.

_Onto him? _

Gillian felt the familiar sensation of Cal's hot, throbbing shaft between her legs. He teased her slick entrance with his tip; his hands on her hips, slowly guiding her onto him. And then he was fully inside her.

The carpet had muffled the sound of the coin as it fell from her fingers but Gillian knew it had happened because Cal was no longer touching her. No longer inside her.

Tired of being an idle participant, she decided to turn the tables. It was an easy decision for her to make. A bemused Cal watched the remainder of the pennies fall silently to the ground as Gillian, in one smooth motion, unburdened herself of her blindfold, spun round and forced him to the ground. Straddling him, she hovered just above his aching hard-on and leaned forward to grab his wrists, pinning them down. Her face was so close that her lips brushed his as she spoke:

"You want to play? We can play." Her voice was low and throaty and Cal felt himself getting harder at the sound of it.

"You should be warned though, I can play just as _hard_," the last word was emphasized as she suddenly and with little fuss, lowered herself onto him.

The unexpected sensation of Gillian's tight muscles contracting around him elicited a moan from Cal that echoed round the office. He dug his fingers into her thighs as she rocked her hips, forging a salacious and desperate rhythm - a rhythm that matched her breathing as she allowed herself to finally be consumed by the moment. Gillian straightened so that she could take him in completely and brought both his hands up to her breasts.

Cal was not quite sure what to make of the sudden shift in power but his body had only one reaction - it was loving Gillian being in control. His fingers moved deftly over her breasts as they tugged and teased at her nipples.

"Aren't we demanding tonight?"

"Shut up," her tone, although thick with arousal, was stern, "I'm concentrating."

Cal knew by the sight of her that she was serious; her teeth sank into her lower lip as she bit down hard. With her eyes pressed tightly shut, she let her head drop back, exposing her exquisite neck. He feasted on her body as she moved on top of him, contracting her muscles around his cock, daring him to let go. He didn't. He wanted to watch her cum first. Gillian silently lifted his hand from her breast and guided it toward her clit. Cal obliged and his light caressing worked in time with her movements. Her heavy breathing became deep moaning until he finally pushed her to climax and her impassioned cries filled the office.

Cal closed his eyes as he prepared for release and allowed the grip on his calculated control to systematically fade. A guttural moan of dissatisfaction came from deep in his throat as his cock was suddenly released from its carnal sheath. The chill from the room crept up on him slowly and Cal opened his eyes to find Gillian on the other side of the office. His mind still fuzzy with arousal, he watched as she calmly dressed herself.

"You wouldn't," he managed to finally say.

"I just did," she chided playfully as she zipped up her dress.

He pulled himself up to rest on his elbows, looking at his abandoned hard-on and then at Gillian as she slipped on her shoes and started fixing her hair.

"I feel so used."

"Game on, Lightman" she threw him a wanton smile as she grabbed her purse from the couch. "I'll see you at the party."

And then she left him, naked on the floor, wearing a look that spoke of a child losing his favorite toy.

"Very funny, Gill. Gill?" But the only thing Cal was left with was the sickly taste of his own medicine lingering in his mouth.

* * *

"Zoe," Cal got up from his desk as his ex-wife entered his office.

"Good morning," her greeting was tentative as she studied him; perched on the edge of his desk he looked the picture of contentment. Which is what had brought her there. Cal didn't do happy. She knew it as well as he did.

"To what do I owe the, wait, that's not right – nevermind," he waved his hand as if to brush his statement back to the realm of the unspoken. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm taking Em for some last minute shopping and wondered if you wanted to grab a late lunch with us."

"You lose my number?" Cal asked, eyeing her suspiciously. Cordial Zoe scared him; he was much more familiar with Headstrong Zoe and her close relative, Cantankerous Zoe. "You could have just called."

She dropped her gaze and wished he weren't an insufferable face reading expert. Cal, naturally, picked up on it and pressed on.

"So if you're not here to invite me to lunch, what's the real reason?" Zoe sighed heavily as she indignantly met his gaze once again.

"Let's have it then," he urged when she made no sign of coming clean.

"Well, I also wanted to ask –"

"Nice of you to finally drop by," Cal's attention was torn from Zoe as Gillian entered his office.

Zoe turned to see the immaculately preened woman walking toward them.

"Zoe," Gillian greeted her with a slight head-nod before leaning in to a peck on the cheek from Cal.

After the initial shock of everyone finding out about their relationship, a certain relief had set in for both of them. It was easier to be themselves together but where Cal was always looking to hold on to her and punctuate his sentences with an ear nibble or a pinch to her behind, Gillian still forced a bit of distance between them when at work. Hence the offering of her cheek to catch Cal's lips.

"A full two hours later than me," Cal searched Gillian's face even though he knew her guard was up before she even walked in. "Rough night?"

"I had an early meeting," her response was concise and saturated with a tone that warned Cal not to enquire further. Of course, he didn't comply.

"Oh yeah? Sneaking around behind my back already. So that's why you didn't want me to stay over?" His eyes never left her face and although he tried to keep his tone light, Gillian picked up on the seriousness of his line of questioning.

"Cal," she warned again, more straightforward this time.

"Gillian," he challenged.

"I think I better get going," Zoe offered as the tension between the two started to rise.

"You don't have to do that," Gillian held her hand out to stop her and then turned back to Cal, "we're not having this conversation."

"Really? Because it feels like we are."

Zoe tried to make her exit again, "Look, I have to -"

"It's not like that," Gillian cut her off. "There was no sneaking," the exasperation was clear in her voice as she tried to placate Cal.

"And yet you still felt the need to exclude me." He was not doing a good job of covering up his mounting irritation but that was intentional.

"You weren't excluded, Cal. We were just going over some numbers. Why do you have to –"

"You know what he's about right?"

"Stop it." She raised her voice this time.

"That whole boy-next-door act is just that – a bloody act."

"Can we drop this now?"

"No," Cal stepped into Gillian's space and dared her to talk him out of further pursuing the debate.

"Cal, stop." This time the warning came from Zoe.

He took a step back to survey his ex-wife who, with that one utterance, had pulled him back ten years or so. She had Gillian's attention too, who was just as surprised by Zoe's reflexive jerk to Cal's leash. Realizing her mistake, Zoe shrunk under their gaze and attempted a tactful retreat with

"Sorry, I just -"

"Hey there, stud." Torres wore a mischievous smile as she sauntered into the office.

One hand diligently held onto a half-eaten sandwich, the other brandished blue case-files at Cal. Her presence immediately cut through the tension that had played up and the threesome relaxed somewhat.

"You are surprisingly accurate in your appraisal," Cal tried lightly, "given the fact that you are yet to see me in action."

"Oh I saw enough at the party on Friday night," Torres said, grinning widely.

Cal plastered a smile on his face in an attempt to hide the fact that she was doing an expert job of pushing his buttons. Aside from everyone noticing their unfashionably late arrival to the party, he and Gillian had gotten into a bit of a romp in the kitchen. Considerably dissatisfied with the way their game had ended, Cal needed to teach her a lesson. They were interrupted though, when Loker was sent to refresh the ice bucket with a decidedly tipsy Torres in tow. The two had been grabbing at every opportunity to have fun at the expense of the recently outed lovers ever since; this occasion being one of them.

"Anyway," Torres moved on when no further provocation was offered, "so we have five Broder-Kemmel evals to do today, one poor little rich girl who needs to make nice with daddy and Man vs. Casino Boss but I don't have that file." She held the folders out to Cal who proceeded to flip through them.

"Broder-Kemmel?" Zoe interjected.

"Hi Zoe," Torres' greeting came through a mouthful of ham, cheese and lettuce and she got a stiff smile in return before Zoe continued.

"Emily told me you landed the account. Congratulations."

"It's just a trial," Cal said without looking up. "We'll see if it works out."

"Pretty expensive trial at half a million dollars for the first year."

"Yeah, well, that's Foster's doing." Cal's nose was still in the folder as he spoke.

"Really? The pharmaceutical group is a pretty close-knit family. How did you get in?" she asked.

"I went to college with one of the board members – Christian Rourke. You might know him, he's an attorney." Gillian replied, traces of the earlier tension heavy in her voice.

"Oh he's such a honey. Love him."

"Glad I'm not the only one who feels that way about him then." Cal's words dripped with sarcasm as he came to stand between the two women.

"Cal doesn't play well with others, I'm sure you know," Zoe directed her words at Gillian but didn't take her eyes from Cal.

"I had no idea," Gillian remarked derisively.

"Yeah, yeah, so where's the other folder then?" Cal asked and forced the conversation back to work.

A guilty look stole across Torres' face. "In the break room," she said softly and then held up the last remaining bite of her sandwich before feebly adding, "Mayo attack."

"Sometimes I wonder about you," Cal said, shaking his head at her.

"I'll replace the cover, I just wanted to find out if you want to be in on the evals or not."

"You and Eli can handle the evaluations," Gillian cut in, "Cal and I will deal with the other cases."

Torres nodded and made a hasty exit.

"Spreading it a little thin aren't we?" Cal chided.

Gillian's response was a weighted eye roll before following Torres.

"Oi!" Cal's voice made her turn. "At your next secret numbers meeting with Christian, you might want to mention how this account has us overextended. Maybe he'll sponsor a few more staff members."

Zoe's eyebrows shot up at the uncharacteristically blatant bitterness in Cal's voice. Gillian's reaction was more restrained in the scowl she imparted, lips tightly pursed, before turning on her heel and leaving.

"Was that really necessary?" She brought Cal's attention from the empty doorway.

"Make the lunch a late dinner," he said as he grabbed his jacket from the couch and started out as well. "Then you can tell me what's got you all," he gestured at her face, "dewy-eyed and – you know." And he disappeared, leaving Zoe alone and feeling like she had just been sucked into an alternate reality where her ex-husband was a man who openly talked about feelings. Zoe shook the idea out of her head and laughed softly to herself as she, too, made to leave.

* * *

_TBC_


	4. Chapter 4

_Well now this was a nice surprise! Just came out of nowhere, the way I like it. Wasn't planning on updating until next week but lucky for you I couldn't tame the bestial muse;) Thanks once again to all who read and reviewed. _

* * *

It was well after 7pm and the entire team, save Cal, was still at the office. It was becoming clear to them all that taking on the Broder-Kemmel account would mean more than just money at the end of the day. Besides the extra paperwork that proved a nightmare, with Torres and Loker handling the evaluations, Gillian and Cal were left to deal with any other case that came in. On this day, they had no choice but to fly solo, each dealing with a case on their own, in order to get things done. Gillian had just arrived back from her interview with a blackjack guru being sued by a small casino in the area for allegedly counting cards and cleaning them out. Cal was off to his family dinner with Emily and Zoe as he had earlier promised and Gillian decided that it would be best if she sat this one out.

Although she felt part of the family, Gillian understood that when Zoe was around she should keep her distance, and it was a position she accepted. It was one of the complications that came along with entering a ready-made family and Gillian felt strongly about keeping her place, as she had put it to Cal a few hours earlier after he had insisted she join them.

"Do you have a minute?" Loker fell in step with Gillian as she made her way to the break room. It had been a long day and all she was focused on was a strong cup of coffee to prepare her for the lengthy report writing session that loomed ahead.

"Can it wait?"

"No," his response was trite and Gillian acquiesced by following him to the lab.

"That's the interview with the teenage girl from earlier today," Gillian said as the video clip sprang to life on the monitor in front of her. She stood over Loker's shoulder and watched as he brought up the vocal stress analysis of the same interview.

"Yeah, you were talking Ria through the evaluations so I thought I'd listen in."

"But I thought this case was closed?"

"Just – watch," Loker's tone carried an air of urgency that abated Gillian's impatience somewhat and she decided to humor him.

"Well what am I looking for?"

"What we always look for," Loker said matter-of-factly. "She accused her father's best friend of seducing her and getting her hooked on meth. Put up a very convincing performance."

"Addicts always do," Gillian said, thoughtfully as the display on the monitor grabbed her full attention. "It's because they actually believe the lies they tell to be the truth."

"But a lie's a lie. What their body doesn't tell us, their voice will," Loker offered.

"Exactly." Gillian tried to hide the surprise in her voice.

The young associates had both come a long way since starting at The Lightman Group and even though she had faith in both Torres and Loker's ability, moments like this sometimes caught her off guard.

"There," she said, pointing to the monitor, "her shoulder. She has no confidence in what she just said."

"And if you look at the VSA over here," he said as he brought up the vocal stress analysis of that particular part of the interview, "it corresponds."

"Eli, are we approaching a point? Because everything you've showed me is pretty basic. I don't see anything that should –"

"Did you listen to Lightman?" he interrupted.

"What about him?"

"You don't find anything strange about the way he conducted this interview?"

"What does it matter? He got the result he wanted." Gillian's patience was beginning to wear thin and she didn't like where the conversation seemed to be headed.

"Well first of all, he didn't form a baseline." Loker looked at Gillian for the first time, waiting to see her reaction. In classic Foster style though, there wasn't one. She carefully tucked the disquiet she felt behind the stoic presentation she alighted for Loker's benefit. It wasn't like Cal to stray that far from procedure; forming a baseline with a new client was one of the most important things necessary in getting an irrefutable read and he had neglected to do it.

"He went in," Loker continued off Gillian's stony expression, "read her and then left. Then he came to me and asked me what I thought." He said this last as if it was the most unthinkable behavior for Cal.

"I know you think he doesn't value your opinion but-"

"No, he didn't ask me like that. He told me he was pretty sure that she was lying – his words. Then he asked me what I got from the VSA and whether I agreed."

Gillian took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as she processed what Loker was telling her.

"It was like he was asking me to tell him whether she was lying or not. As if he didn't know." He stopped talking then and waited.

Gillian kept her gaze on the VSA as it looped. If what Loker had said were true, it meant that Emily leaving was having a bigger impact on Cal than she had anticipated and the situation would only become worse if it wasn't addressed. Knowing Cal, though, Gillian also knew that addressing it with him could be the cause of it becoming worse.

"I'm sure that's not what it was," she finally broke the silence that had come to rest between them.

"I wouldn't have come to you if I thought it was nothing," Loker persisted.

"Well I'm telling you that it's nothing."

"You didn't see him. He couldn't tell with certainty whether-"

"Well like I said, addicts are convincing liars and-"

"This is Lightman we're talking about here. He could read your face even if you didn't have one and today, he looked off his game."

"I think you're reading too much into this, Eli. What with Emily leaving tomorrow-"

"Don't do that. Don't let the fact that you share a bed cloud your judgement." He knew he had overstepped before the words had left his mouth and the glare from Gillian confirmed it. It meant too much to him, however, to leave it alone.

"I suggest you stop talking now," her tone was firm and heavy with caution.

"Lightman has done better work with a gun to his head and you know it. Don't use Emily as-"

"And you know," Gillian interjected, raising her voice as she abandoned the tethers on her rising irritation, "that it's other people's lives that Cal holds in high regard, not his own."

"I know what I saw," the words spilled from his mouth as his mind frantically tried to put an end to it before further antagonizing his boss.

"Drop it, Eli. And get back to the work we're paying you to do." This time Gillian didn't wait for a response but quickly turned on her heel and stormed out of the lab.

She had a hard enough job awaiting her without having to worry about Cal all evening. At the same time, she had to admit that after that conversation, worrying about Cal was all she would be doing.

* * *

Gillian's headlights cast an eerie luminescence on the familiar posture of one Cal Lightman sitting on her front steps as she pulled into her drive. His expression was pensive as he watched her get out of her car and walk toward him. It was enough to make Gillian decide not to mention the conversation she had had with Loker earlier that evening.

"I should probably get a key made," she said lightly as he rose to greet her.

Cal placed the softest of kisses on her cheek, the chastity of which made Gillian regard him suspiciously. When surrounded by people they knew and strangers alike, Cal could barely tell the difference between what was appropriate and inappropriate touching and now, standing in front of her door without an audience, the best he could do was make her feel like a fifth grader being sent to bed by her father.

He snaked his arms around her waist in the way that made her forget life could be cruel and she let him pull her into him. Cal's gaze bore into hers as he spoke, barely above a whisper

"It's after ten."

"I wasn't in the mood to bring work home tonight," she responded, matching her tone to his. "Have you been waiting long?"

He shook his head slowly and let his arms drop to grasp her cold hands between his.

"Do you want to come inside?" His stillness worried her; it seemed as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and worse still, it seemed as if he were utterly comfortable doing it.

"It will just make it harder for me to leave," he objected. "I'm making a big breakfast for Em tomorrow before we head off to the airport."

Gillian nodded her understanding, all the time studying Cal's face for the slightest hint of what he was thinking and why he had come to see her.

"You're still coming?" His question brought her attention back from the wells of his eyes in which she was slowly drowning and she nodded again, this time a little more animated.

"Of course I am. Wouldn't miss it." The smile she plastered on her face almost hurt and she knew that Cal noticed the concern in her eyes because when next he spoke, it was to the point.

"I wanted to tell you that I'm not jealous of your relationship with Rourke. I trust you. So…" he let his words fade with the last of his breath as he looked at her and the amazingly terrifying feeling of vulnerability slowly crept over him.

"Then what's the problem?"

"I was angry because you didn't come to me with it, Gill. This here," he closed the space between them again, "this is us. And secrets, they have no place here. That's not what we're about."

Gillian took a moment to reflect on what was happening. It was rarely that Cal allowed himself to become so completely vulnerable and the gesture made her mist up just a bit as she managed to acknowledge him with a nod.

"I'm sorry," she added to the apology that had been floating behind her eyes that whole time.

His acceptance was a light brush of his fingers to her cheek and the way that her breath escaped her lips when he did, made Cal want them.

Her lips. On his.

So he took them.

The kiss was gentle, sweet; their tongues unyielding as they whispered their I'm sorries and I forgive yous, all the time reaching for that comfort they each knew the other held. When Cal broke from her he was breathless and a quick kiss to her forehead sufficed as the perfect Good night.

"Cal!" she called to his back as he made his way from her. He diligently turned and watched as she crossed the distance he had created. "What did Zoe have to say?"

The thought occurred to her only as he was leaving; Cal had mentioned Zoe's visit to her and she was curious as to what his ex-wife had to say to him. His shoulders slumped visibly at the mention of her name and his demeanor resembled his defeated form as it had perched on her steps moments before.

"In a nutshell – she said that if I'm not careful, I'm going to end up weighing you down." His tone was matter-of-fact as he spoke but Gillian knew that he was simply doing a very good job of hiding his disconcertedness.

"And do you believe her?" she asked quietly, apprehensively.

She recognized that besides herself, Zoe was the one other person who knew Cal better than he knew himself and for her to have made an observation like that warranted a measure of caution.

"Little bit," Cal conceded, his gaze held firmly on the grass at their feet.

"Don't." The quiet desperation in Gillian's tone made him look up.

"She said I thrive in chaos and that if I can't find it, I create it. That much is true, I'll grant her that."

The hand that touched his cheek came with more than a command for his attention; it demanded that he take the words about to be spoken and bury them in the deepest confines of his heart where they should always be cherished.

"I fell in love with the man you are, Cal," Gillian started. "Not the idea of what you should be."

And still her hand on his cheek. It was as if it formed a physical link for the words to not only be spoken but also to flow from her soul directly into his where they would find a new home.

"Your love is not a burden to me. So don't listen to her because what we have, it's ours. It belongs to us and nobody else."

She was standing so close to him that he could not only see his reflection in her eyes but in the tears that filled them as well.

"You're too good for me," the choked whisper came from Cal.

"Bullshit," she said as she took back whatever space remained between them and kissed him.

Gillian broke from him to find a slight smile play on his lips and her face mirrored his. It seemed to have worked; Cal seemed lighter than when she had arrived to find him on her front steps. She squeezed his hand which had somehow woven itself into hers.

"Now go home before I make you happy you came here."

He left her with another kiss to her cheek before making his way back to his car. Gillian's smile faded quickly as the car moved out of sight and the realization dawned that the road with Cal was going to be an arduous one; there was so much damage that she was going to have to consolidate. It wasn't a question of whether she loved him or not. That much was plain. The question she faced was whether it would all be worth it, and if it wasn't, did she have the heart to admit it to herself and walk away.

* * *

_TBC_


	5. Chapter 5

_ Okay so now's about the time when the ride starts getting bumpy. Stick with it or abandon ship while you can. I'm not promising it's going to be easy._

_As always, thank you to all who reviewed._

* * *

Gillian sat in Cal's chair; her heeled boots comfortably resting on his desk. She had gone to breakfast at his place as promised but decided not to follow the family to the airport. Once again, she was asserting her position on not intruding too much. The remnants of her meeting with Cal the previous night played on in her head in a relentless loop and she abandoned her office in an attempt to find peace in his. It was hard in coming though, and Gillian hoped that the day would bring a worthy distraction. As if on cue from the Universe, Torres stalked into the office looking agitated and threw herself into a chair opposite her boss with an exaggerated sigh. Gillian eyed her for a few seconds and when she made no sign of elaborating on her dramatic entrance, spoke:

"Is something wrong?"

Torres straightened in her chair as if the enquiry was what she had been waiting for and the words simply streamed from her lips.

"They want to fill seventy positions in the next five months. Seventy! Five months!" she raised her voice in an attempt to get her point across as emphatically as possible.

"Ria, I-"

"Do you know how many candidates checked out from the interviews we did yesterday? Two!" She answered her own question. "Two out of seven. How are we going to find sixty-eight more trustworthy people?"

"I understand it can be a little frustrating," Gillian adopted her best tone of appeasement in an effort to calm her associate, but it didn't work.

"A little? I'm stuck here all day conducting glorified job interviews!"

"They're more than that," Gillian managed to edge in before she continued her tirade. "This company has lost hundreds of millions of dollars on their high turnover and lawsuits involving staff members over the past three years. What we're doing is saving them money."

"We have four more to do today. I pushed them all to later this afternoon." Torres' voice was steady as she spoke but still strained. "I want to do some real work."

Gillian started to deny her request but was interrupted by a certain detective who had taken the liberty of waltzing into the office unannounced.

"Sorry," The sight of Gillian behind Cal's desk stopped Wallowski in her tracks, "I was looking for Cal."

Torres noticed her boss stiffen visibly at the sight of her and leaned back in her chair to watch the scene play out.

"He's not here," Gillian's response was short.

"I can see that. He's not answering his cell," Wallowski led the question and looked at her for an answer but all she got was Gillian's best how-is-this-my-problem expression. "Okay," Wallowski dragged the word, starting to feel uncomfortable under the cool tension creeping into the room, "do you know where he is?"

"Yes," was all Gillian offered before reverting to her steely glare.

Wallowski nodded as she accepted the fact that she would be getting no further information from Gillian.

"I'd ask you to tell him to call me but we both know-"

"That's not likely to happen," Cal finished her sentence as he swept past her.

His sudden appearance clearly did not only surprise Wallowski as Torres rose from her seat and Gillian straightened slightly in her seat.

"Comfortable?" he asked, gesturing to her feet on his desk.

"Quite," she responded tritely. "Thanks for asking."

He fought back a smile as he turned his attention to Torres. "And you?"

"I was just telling Foster that-"

"Nevermind, don't care," he cut in and then turned to Wallowski, hands dug deep into his pockets.

"Which brings me to you."

"I've been trying to get hold of you all morning," she started but was waved to silence by Cal's emphatic gesturing.

"Save me the lead up and skip to the point, darling."

"I need your expertise down at the station."

"I hope for your sake you mean that literally. She's the jealous type, she is," Cal said and motioned toward Gillian with his head, causing the color in her cheeks to deepen.

Torres stifled a chuckle as Wallowski's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Her gaze shifted from Cal's smirk to Gillian's sheepish smile and she nodded slowly.

"So you finally got her to cave."

"I was seduced into submission, believe it or not," Cal responded.

"Can we talk about why you need us?" Torres brought everyone's attention back to work.

"Us? Shouldn't you be off doing menial evals for Captain America?"

"Yes, she should." Gillian piped up. "And it's not for him. He's just a board member," she ended and lowered her feet from his desk, meeting Cal's challenging glare as she did.

"I don't have any 'til much later. Let me go with you. I just need some sort of stimulation-"

"Whoa whoa whoa, let's keep this strictly business, shall we?" He turned back to Wallowski, "What am I going to be wielding my genius upon then?"

"We have a young mother claiming that her ex-boyfriend is a murderer and that he wants to kill her because she found out about it."

"Juicy," Cal said and made himself comfortable on the edge of his desk.

"Also, she claims he's not the father of her two-year-old daughter, which adds to her fear of him hurting the both of them – or worse. We've been questioning the ex all morning but we're not getting anywhere," the detective ended.

Cal turned to Gillian, "You want to," his voice was low as he motioned toward his study with his head and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"What?" her indignation was clear in her tone as she realized what Cal was hinting at.

"Real quick before I head out," he persisted.

"Oh god," Wallowski rolled her eyes and started to leave. "I'll meet you there."

"There you go, we have a gap."

"Cal," Gillian warned.

"Fine but you owe me," he pointed at her and made to leave, "and I'll be collecting soon." Gillian shook her head in disbelief and avoided eye contact with Torres who was surveying her with a wry smile.

"Torres!" Cal's head appeared in the doorway. "You coming?" And then disappeared again.

Torres looked at Gillian hopefully who responded with a resigned shrug.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," she said as she hurried after Cal. "He's so much nicer since he's with you."

Her parting words made the smile fade from Gillian's lips as she considered what they meant. She was beginning to realize that Cal being nicer came with a whole other set of complications.

* * *

Cal and Torres were seated across the table from the alleged murderer. The interrogation room was cool and deadly quiet as the pair considered the form before them. Peter Rylands was in his late twenties, strikingly handsome and well-kept. His shoulders slumped forward and his eyes almost pleaded with Cal as he began to speak:

"I come from a good home," he started. "If you spoke to my mother," his voice broke and he took a deep breath in an attempt to regain his composure.

"Mr. Lightman-"

"It's Doctor," Cal's tone was even as he corrected him.

"Sorry, Doctor Lightman, do you have kids?"

Torres expected the usual deflective response from Cal to get the attention back to the case at hand and thus was shocked when she heard "I have a daughter" fall from his lips. She eyed him curiously but remained silent.

"How would you feel if someone tried to take her from you? And not only is Melissa trying to take my baby, she's creating a monster of a father for her to remember."

"Only she's not your daughter, is she?" Cal challenged.

"I have loved and cared for her since before she was born. Alice is more mine than anyone else's." For the first time, Peter's voice was steady and his tone firm as he spoke.

Cal's mind drifted to Gillian and Sophie and he swallowed back his disdain for the legislation that marked parenthood with DNA. He fought to regain his focus.

"Have you ever killed anyone?" Cal's tone was cool, his eyes glued to Peter as he watched his face and body intently.

The young man shook his head and let his gaze fall to the chipped paint on the table.

"We're going to need you to answer the question, Mr. Rylands," Torres pressed.

When next he looked up, his eyes were filled with tears and he buried his head in his hands.

"This is crazy. I'm an accountant," he looked up again, imploring to Cal, "I'm the most boring person you'll ever meet!"

"I've spoken to Melissa," Cal said, ignoring the blatant deflection, "and her fear is real. She's afraid of you, Peter. There's a history of-"

"One time!" Peter's voice was raised and he leaned forward across the table. "I had too much to drink and we got into an argument. I slapped her. Once! And this is the reason you believe her when she says I'm a killer?"

Cal stared at him and said nothing. He was trying to place Peter's anger but was having trouble doing it. It could easily be attributed to the situation but that seemed almost too easy. His distress over losing his daughter was real though; that much was clear. The man loved his little girl. A pang stole at Cal's heart as his mind drifted again, this time to Emily and their hurried hugs at the airport a few hours earlier. It was not the way he wanted to say goodbye but he knew that if he had held onto her any longer he would never have let go. He wasn't losing her; she was just going away for a while. This man, however, was on the verge of never seeing his daughter again and Cal could see nothing else on his face.

"Have you ever killed anyone?" his voice was softer this time, almost apologetic.

Peter's eyes met his in a silent plea. "No," he whispered and the tears that had been threatening finally rolled freely down his cheeks. "No, please, you have to tell them. You can't let her take my baby."

Torres shifted uncomfortably at the raw and unabashed display of emotion from the man before her and looked to Cal for what would come next.

"I'm here to tell the truth from the lies, Mr. Rylands. Custody battles belong to the court." His words had barely left his mouth when Cal had vacated the room, leaving a dumbfounded Peter in his wake.

"What does that mean?" he asked Torres, the desperation dripping from his words.

"They'll be with you in a minute," she stalled as she tried to hide her own confusion at Cal's behavior and made a hasty exit.

* * *

"But she's obviously scared of something."

Torres heard Wallowski's raised voice before she actually saw her. She turned the corner to find her squaring off with Cal in the hallway.

"Of course she's bloody scared!" Cal countered. "She lied to the man about the paternity of her child for two years. Now that his presence has become an inconvenience-"

"It's more than that," Wallowski shook her head at Cal's reasoning.

"Whatever it is, it's not a case of murder."

"Maybe we should take them back to the office," Torres offered as she caught up to the two. "We have the equipment-"

"That won't be necessary," Cal broke her off.

"Why not? This deserves a deeper look, Lightman," Wallowski said and her hands on her hips gave her words more weight.

"Tell the girl to take out a restraining order if she's worried about him. But in my expert opinion," he emphasized the last words, "that man is not a threat to anyone – least of all his kid."

"I don't know, something seems off about him." The pointed look Torres got from Cal did little to make her waver in her opinion and she continued, "Foster should speak to him and we should get a vocal analysis. Just to be sure," she ended.

"That's it," Wallowski said as she started toward the interrogation room, "you're out-voted. I'm bringing them both to the cube."

Cal watched her away in disbelief and then rounded on Torres.

"The only reason you're chasing after this is because you don't want to get back to your stupid job interviews."

"That's not-"

"If you ever," he raised his voice to drown hers out, "challenge my authority again, that will be the end of it for you. Understood?" Cal was right up in her face and she could see the veins bulge on his temples.

She gave him a quick, stiff nod and took a step back. He glowered at her for a few seconds longer before making his way out of the station. Torres let go of the breath she had no idea she had been holding that whole time.

"So much for being nicer," she said to herself and followed him out.

* * *

"Cal?" Gillian called as she entered his office tentatively.

The chair at his desk was empty so she made her way to his study. The door was open and as she approached she saw Cal sitting at the desk, staring off into space.

"Cal?" she said again, softer this time.

His head jerked toward her as her voice brought him back to the real world. His glazed eyes awakened with warmth that seemed to radiate over her as he watched her walk toward him. She stopped right at his feet and waited for his eyes to meet hers.

"You okay?" The words left her mouth before they had entered her mind and she regretted it almost instantly. Cal didn't care for her mothering and she knew it.

"I'll be fine," his honest response surprised her. "Are you done with the boy?"

"For now. Loker and I are still going over the VSA's from both interviews."

Cal shook his head with a scornful chuckle.

"I know you think it's a waste. Torres filled me in," Gillian saw the contempt flash across his face at the mention of her name. "But I told her she was right." Cal's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "In just the interview alone, I noticed markers in his tone and facial cues that lend to sociopathic tendencies."

"Oh come off it, Gill," his anger had risen again and Cal did little to stifle it.

"This is serious, Cal."

"Yes it is; it's very serious. You're setting a man up for murder!"

"The evidence suggests-"

"The evidence?" He was practically screaming now as he rose from his chair and invaded her space. "If someone threatened Em, I would kill too!"

"Are you sure that's all it is?"

"That's all it is," he said, finally backing off.

"Fine, then that's what we'll take it as," she said as she left the study and his office.

A creeping feeling of unease stole over Gillian as she made her way back to the lab and Loker's words of Cal losing his edge haunted her every step. If his observations were correct then it was highly plausible that the detail of Peter Rylands' daughter could very well have influenced Cal's decision above any other evidence they may have found. It was these thoughts that carried her into the lab but it was her blind trust of the man she loved and the admiration of the genius mind he embodied that carried her to stop the investigation and declare Melissa's claims unfounded.

* * *

"Talk to me." Gillian tried to unclasp Cal's hands from her waist as she moved away from him but he just held on tighter.

"You dirty, dirty girl," he whispered as he brought his lips to her neck.

"That's not what I meant," she said as she craned herself away from him and pushed against his chest with both hands to make him stop.

"No?" Cal stopped plastering her with kisses long enough to feign ignorance.

"Today was hard on you, Cal, and I think-"

He let her go then and took up his original space on the other end of the couch.

"You can't be my girlfriend and my therapist, Gill - choose one."

"Therapists aren't the only people allowed to talk about emotions and thoughts and-"

"Emily's gone and I'm not too happy about it," he broke in with a cavalier shrug. "For the next few months, maybe a year, we'll have a relationship based in cyber space. Did it affect my judgment today? More than likely. Were my deductions about the case wrong in any way? Highly unlikely. I didn't appreciate you questioning me about-"

"I was just trying to do my job."

"What a coincidence, so was I. I was having a rough day. You of all people should know I've had a few of those in my life. It has never affected my work before so-"

"It's never been this close to home before."

"You're doing it again," he wagged an accusatory finger at her and she pursed her lips. "Thank you." Cal sidled up to her again and draped her leg across his.

"What do you say we put this day to bed and get cracking on that IOU?"

Gillian's reaction was not what he had aimed for; her face was solemn and her features weighed down with concern.

"I worry that you're not okay and that in typical Cal Lightman fashion, you're not saying anything to me about it." Cal punctuated her statement by throwing his head back on the couch and sighing heavily.

"I worry that because you're not talking about it, it's just going to get-"

"Gill, darling, look at me," he tilted her chin to bring her eyes up from the floor and onto his. "I had a rough day. That's it. I'm okay." Cal saw the acceptance in her eyes before she nodded slowly and his heart felt instantly lighter that his lie had been sold.

"Shower and bed?" she asked lightly as a smile crept onto her lips.

"I thought you'd never ask," he said and grabbed her hand to pull her up.

* * *

It was after 5am when the incessant buzzing from Cal's cell phone finally woke her. Gillian nudged at the snoring lump beside her and when she got no response, grabbed for the phone on his bedside table. She squinted as the light from the screen assaulted her eyes and made it impossible for her to read the name that appeared on it.

"Hello?" her voice croaked to life after having been out of use for too long.

Gillian looked down at Cal when she recognized the voice on the other end and watched as he sleepily shifted his position.

"Yeah, he can't come to the phone right now on account of the fact that it's barely five and he's asleep." Her agitation rose easily once she knew who was responsible for waking her.

"Have the voices started up again, Love?" she heard Cal ask, his voice thick with sleep.

Gillian turned to look at him, her face suddenly pale and he realized she was on the phone.

"What is it? Is it Em?" he asked in alarm as he pulled himself up beside her.

Gillian said nothing. After a few more seconds of listening, she nodded a response that would never be received and lowered the phone from her ear. Cal made to pick up the call but the line was already dead.

"Gill? You're scaring me. Say something."

"We made a mistake," she finally managed to say and her eyes locked on his.

"With what? Who was that?"

"We made a mistake, Cal." Her voice trembled as she spoke.

"Yeah, yeah I got that part, Love," he said as he gently stroked her shoulder.

"The baby's gone." She felt Cal's hand freeze on her shoulder and watched as his mind started racing behind his eyes. "He – beat her – and took-"

"But-" was the best he could do as he frantically tried to process what he was being told.

"She's in ICU but – it doesn't look good."

Cal was completely still and Gillian was sure she could feel his heart beating all the way where she was sitting. He fell back onto the pillows, staring blankly at her and she saw a light go out in his eyes then, knowing with a certainty she'd never felt before, that it would be a long time - if ever - before she would see that light again.

* * *

_TBC_


	6. Chapter 6

_Apologies for making you wait this long for an update. I have no excuse other than my superb procrastination skills. To make up for it, I've dealt a double upload. These two are much shorter than the previous chapters but some say it's not the size but what you do with it that counts;) I suppose your reviews will either confirm or disprove that statement so without further ado..._

* * *

It was barely nine o'clock but Cal was worn out; in bed but unable to sleep. He had played every last detail of the Rylands case over and over in his head as if by some miracle of repetition, he would find what he had missed the first time around. His mind grasped desperately at every micro second of anything, each time assuring him that he was right, and with each affirmation Cal only grew more and more agitated. If he had been right, why was Melissa Creever close to death and her baby girl possibly the same? The frustration welled up in his chest and Cal turned over, grabbed the pillow next to him and hugged it tightly to his chest. The feeling of being stuck was uncharted territory for Cal and its stubborn persistence seemed to further entrench him instead of embolden him to move out of it.

He suddenly became aware of the fact that his breathing had slowed and deepened. His lungs, as if on their own accord, took their time in filling and held onto their hard-earned takings longer than they should have, before finally succumbing to the reflexive release thereof. Cal only realized that his body was tensed up when he felt each muscle offer a sigh of relief as a welcome relaxation spread through them; the distinct smell of honey almond swimming in his head. Gillian.

He rolled onto his back and stared blankly at the ceiling; the beautiful and unbearable memory of the night before teased him as he closed his eyes to her gentle touch, her fingers tracing endless patterns along his chest before taking repose at the sensitive area below his bellybutton. The agonizing sweetness of her breath on his neck while he held her sleeping form in his arms had made his heart ache. She was his weakness; always had been. Only now, things seemed to have unraveled. What she did to him and who he had become because of it was something Cal could not explain let alone assert any amount of control over. He loved her. He was happy. The soft smile that played at the corners of his lips faded slowly as Zoe's words rang in his head. He didn't do happy, she had said. He was at his best when in the middle of the grandest discord within himself; that was where the lie detection expert, father, friend and lover thrived. He swallowed hard as he tried to get rid of the sudden taste of bile that had risen in his mouth at the same time that he conceded his ex-wife may very well have been right. Cal felt the unease in the pit of his stomach twist and bunch into an entanglement of doubt and regret as the cracks on the ceiling of his bedroom jeered at him with unremitting ridicule; offering neither answers nor sleep.

* * *

"I thought you'd be in a bit earlier considering," Wallowski greeted Gillian as she walked into her office.

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise to find the detective reclining comfortably behind her desk.

"Who let you in here?"

"My badge," Wallowski offered nonchalantly, making no sign of moving.

Gillian consciously bit back the snide remark that jumped to her lips and walked over to her.

"Do you mind?"

"Where's Lightman?" she asked as she diligently rose and made her way to the other side of the desk. "Or was it his turn to clear the breakfast dishes?" The derision in her tone made Gillian wince but she made sure that that was where her reaction stopped as she sat down and turned her computer on.

"He won't be coming in today," she responded evenly as she offered up her best stolid expression.

"And why would he? You're here to face the music, as always," Wallowski taunted, hoping for a rise out of the indiscriminately guarded Foster. When she didn't get one, she pressed on, "The good Dr. Foster – Cal Lightman's personal carer, cleaner of messes – I think the word I'm looking for is - enabler."

This last attempt managed to get under her skin and Gillian glared at her.

"If you don't have any news on Melissa or the baby, I suggest you leave."

"You mean the woman who was attacked because of a call you made? And the baby who is now missing because of that same expert advice?" Wallowski was merciless in her scathing onslaught and Gillian felt a dull ache start up in her temples.

She had been wrong to call off further investigation; she knew that much. It was her mistake and not Cal's, that led to the awful reality they now faced - a woman not likely to survive the attempt made on her life and a two-year-old held captive by a sociopath. Since the detective's phone call earlier that morning, Gillian had been trying to find a reason for her behavior. Why she had not challenged Cal on what she believed was the right course of action for the case. Why she had given in to him and stopped the investigation against her better judgement. She'd never been afraid to go against his decisions before, especially if it was in the best interest of their clients. The bottom line mocked her as a tumult of thoughts and questions nagged in circles in her mind. The bottom line was this: the decision she made, was made by a girlfriend, not a trained professional. Gillian struggled to acknowledge that the one thing she had warned Cal about – keeping their personal lives separate from their work – was the one thing she was guilty of. And it had cost them dearly, Melissa and Alice even more so.

"Is she dead?" It wasn't so much Loker's words but the unmistakable tone of stark, cold contempt in his voice that made the hair on the back of Gillian's neck stand on end.

"Are you here to tell us she's dead?"

"Now is not a good time, Eli." She rose from her seat to afford the authority to her words that was lacking in her voice when she uttered them.

The effect of her attempt was missed on Loker and he entered her office as if she had not spoken at all; his entire being seemed to be wrung in annoyance as every muscle worked together in an indefatigable effort to contain himself. Gillian sensed the inevitable confrontation looming and the sight of him made her suddenly grateful for the protection her desk offered.

"Well?" He questioned Wallowski, paying no mind to his boss.

"No, she's not dead… yet. You'll know if anything changes as soon as I do. I'm going to need a full report before the end of the day," she turned her attention to Gillian. "I'm sure you can imagine the shitstream I had to deal with from my captain."

Gillian responded with an almost imperceptible nod as she lowered her guilt-ridden gaze to the floor.

"And then there's the issue of the profile," Wallowski's voice commanded Gillian's gaze return to hers. "I need your best work as soon as you can get it to me. We want to find this kid alive of course."

"Oh that won't be a problem, right Foster?" Loker looked at her for the first time, his tone was strained and his expression laden with disdain. "You've had practice."

Gillian's eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his last statement but he clarified by qualifying it with:

"You can't have forgotten about Andrew Jenkins?" Loker watched as realization dawned and smoothed her features; a hideous smirk crept onto his face. "Yeah, only that time you were one of those who got caught on the wrong end of Lightman's little ego trip."

"That's enough." The resolute command in her tone surprised even her but Gillian did well to not reveal that much to her audience as she brazenly squared her shoulders. "Look, I know that you-"

"Please," Loker cut in, clearly unfazed by her assertion of authority, "save me the patronizing psycho-babble." Gillian glared at him but remained tight-lipped; she did not have the energy to deal with the possible consequences of further provocation.

"I told you to watch him; I said there was something up." The lack of reaction only fueled his frustration and he started raising his voice. "You still think I'm imagining things?"

"Okay, come on now," Wallowski made a feeble attempt to calm the situation.

She made to take Loker by the arm but her hand was instantly shrugged off as he continued to bare down at Gillian across the desk.

"You told me I was wrong!" Gillian took a step back to increase the distance between his words and her face, as if the sting they caused could be avoided.

"And now there's a mother without her child and we did that," and then he pointed an accusatory finger at her, "_You_ made us do that!"

"Hey," the detective's strong hands were on his shoulders as she pulled him away from the desk, "would you calm down?" Loker submitted to her touch but not to her command.

Gillian let her eyes drop from his unmitigated gaze; she couldn't bear to look into his face and meet the anger, betrayal and frustration emanating so unabashedly from it with the guilt on hers. She took a deep steadying breath and felt a familiar calm start to steal over her.

For the first time in the past few days, Gillian felt like she was regaining the control many depended on her for. The thought occurred to her that it had to do with Cal's absence, both of his physical presence as well as what had become her constant obsession with his well-being. When faced with difficulty, it had always been a practice of hers to drown out external influences so that she could channel her strength. It was what made her one of the best in her field; Dr. Gillian Foster was not easily rattled and could always find an enviable amount of inner strength to deal with distressing situations. It was in this space, her quiet meditation, that she was freed of the past few weeks that had been consumed by her relationship with Cal, Cal's relationship with her, Cal and Emily, Cal and Zoe, Cal, Cal, Cal… And in the quiet, she found herself again. The doctor who had been pushed aside by the girlfriend. Gillian held onto her with fervor as she wrestled her way back into the room with Wallowski and Loker.

"She's okay," she spoke softly without looking up.

The room adopted an eerie silence that felt ready to burst with anticipation as both Loker and Wallowski listened with bated breath.

"Alice is still alive." She looked up to find them regarding her as if frozen in time; Loker's one shoulder still resting snugly in the detective's unrelenting grip.

"I know I'm right." Gillian wholeheartedly believed what she had said and felt the truth she spoke in every cell as she spoke it, "but I won't be for long." Her words fell with a heaviness that broke through the constrained bubble that had appeared out of nothing and Wallowski, forgetting her watch on Loker, approached her.

"How can you be sure?"

"She's with her father," Gillian said and allowed her legs to finally give in as she found her chair. "He won't hurt her."

Loker stepped forward gingerly and his silent, awkward apology to her marked each movement.

"But Rylands is not her father," he proffered tentatively.

"The instinct to protect your child at any cost is governed by love, Eli, not blood. I'll have your profile in the next few hours," she added to Wallowski. "We don't have much time."

"Wait, why don't we have time if you just said she's okay?" Loker asked.

"Because," Gillian started, her tone heavy with a sense of foreboding, "the person who attacked Melissa is after Peter and the baby too."


	7. Chapter 7

You seen Foster?" Cal asked as he burst into the conference room.

Torres was in the middle of an evaluation with a man who looked like an older version of one of the cast members of Revenge of the Nerds. She startled at the sudden appearance of her boss and Cal was sure he noticed Arnold Poindexter jump in his seat.

"You're here," Torres finally found her voice.

"It's my name on the wall last I checked," Cal's urgent impatience seeped into his words and did not go unnoticed by Torres.

"I should be questioning your presence seeing as how you've been fired, what is it, three hundred times now? Three-hundred-and-one if you don't stop that eye-rolling and tell me where Foster is."

Torres followed Cal's quick glance at Poindexter and noticed he was failing dismally at trying to hide the fact that he was not stressed by Lightman's presence.

"I've been here all morning," she said, turning her attention back to Cal. "Have you tried her cell?"

"Cell? What's that?" Cal chided drily. Torres pursed her lips to contain her irritation, not only at her boss' disregard for good business practice but at his need to provoke her at every turn.

"No bloody use to me," he muttered as he made to leave.

She turned back to her interviewee but Cal burst in just as she was about to speak. She rounded on him and caught his words before they could leave his lips.

"I know, he got nervous when he realized who you were." Both Cal and Poindexter looked at her agape; Cal's expression leaning more toward being impressed than his counterpart's deer-caught-in-headlights.

"As I was about to say," she spoke to the interviewee but kept eye-contact with Cal, "this interview is over."

"Nobody likes a show-off," he feigned disapproval and rewarded her with a wily smirk before he sauntered off.

* * *

"Any reason why you're not answering my calls?"

Gillian jumped as Cal appeared beside her, matching his stride to hers as she made her way to the lab.

"You're here," she was not quick enough to hide the surprise in her tone.

"No, no, I'm home in bed. This is my surrogate, can't you tell? He's not nearly as good-looking as I am. Phone?"

"In my office. I left for the station right after I emailed you about there being a second suspect. Now I'm going over the Rylands tapes with Loker. Hey," they were right outside the lab when Gillian extended her arm across Cal's chest to assist her in getting his attention.

He turned to face her and Gillian's features immediately softened as the self-reproach in his eyes willed her to look away. She didn't. Cal had done such a good job of keeping his pain out of his voice that she had almost been convinced that he could be okay. But looking at him, Gillian realized that her email that morning had done little to ease the torture the initial sense of being wrong was putting him through.

"Are you okay?" Cal's sudden movement out of her personal space thwarted her hand's intended caress of his arm and her surprise at this reaction caused it to remain comically suspended in mid air for several seconds before returning to her side.

"No," he didn't look at her as he spoke, "but that's the good news." Cal was inside the lab before she could respond and Gillian felt a sense of dread start to well up inside her.

* * *

"You don't get to do this, Cal." Gillian's voice trembled and her hands followed suit.

They were standing in her living room; for every step she took to close the gap between them, Cal would take one back. It was what she had suspected at the lab earlier that day. Cal was pulling away. He had filled his head with a myriad of ideas that equated being happy with not being at his best and she was at her wit's end trying to convince him otherwise.

They had received the redeeming news that the DNA results found on Melissa and all over her apartment did not belong to Peter Rylands but it came along with the news that Melissa Creever had passed away. It had sent Cal over the edge.

"Look at you," his composure made up for her lack thereof, "you're bloody beautiful, amazing, I'm a mess," he ended, gesturing at himself.

"Please don't you go down that road of telling me what I deserve," she raised her voice as her anger replaced the final shred of restraint she nursed in her grasp. "I have been through enough to be able to figure that for myself."

Cal looked into her eyes for the first time and his chest tightened as his heart broke at what she gave him. Gillian was his, unreservedly and perfectly his and he understood with real clarity for the first time in all the years that they'd been friends that there was nothing he could do that would make her love and loyalty waver. Instead of comfort, this realization only served to weigh him down even more.

"The truth is never easy, Gill."

"And what's the truth? You don't want to be with me? Is that it?"

"You know the answer to that."

"Then what, Cal? Are you just going to push me aside? What about Emily? Do you want to be alone and miserable forever?"

"You don't understand."

"Then make me! You were right about him." Gillian almost screamed. "Peter's not our guy!"

"I still messed up," he was unrelenting. "I should've seen it."

"Nobody could have –"

"I should have!" Cal persisted, the cracks starting to shake his composure. "I'm supposed to see what others can't! That is why they call me an expert!"

"Cal-"

"But instead, instead I'm thinking about how messed up Delaware is for making you lose Sophie," Gillian staggered at this revelation but was not given a chance to respond. "-because you would've made a great mum, Gill," his voice was softer at this part, as if he tried making up for the arms that were not holding in her in a tight embrace. "You're amazing with Em," he added and watched her eyes start to glisten with years of unshed tears over her loss.

"And then I'm thinking about how bloody much I'm missing Em even though she's only just left. And how grateful I should be because here I am, sitting across from a broken man who, because of the same stupid laws that took your baby from you, was possibly never going to see his daughter again. It's all I'm thinking, Gill. Instead of doing my job, I'm-I'm-" his shoulders drooped as the last of his breath slowly left his lungs and he looked at her, defeated.

"You can't beat yourself up for being human, Cal."

"My being human got a young woman killed. This shouldn't have to be your life, Gill." Cal's voice finally broke and he pursed his lips tightly to hide the quivering. Never before had he bared himself so honestly to another person and as much as it pained him, he felt it was the least he could do for her. He could give her everything he had, but it still wouldn't be enough. She deserved more.

"Stop it," she said as she made the last few steps it took to get to him. "Stop telling me what I need and want and deserve."

The hand that had been yearning for the feel of his skin finally got its way as she cupped his cheek in her palm and forced him to meet her gaze.

"You say the truth is never easy. Well it's not supposed to be. It's not supposed to be perfect either. The truth is I love you and you love me and it's not easy or perfect but it's beautiful, Cal. It's you in the dark sometimes and me right there with you. It's not giving me flowers and chocolates and talking about what a lovely day we've had. Well, chocolates some of the time is okay – let's not get irrational here."

Her last managed to get a soft chuckle out of Cal as his eyes still bore into hers. She had him where she wanted him and it was her mission to get through to him once and for all.

"What I'm saying is that things won't always be okay – they're not supposed to be. What's supposed to be is us, dealing with it together." Her hand dropped from his cheek and met its partner to rest on his chest as she stepped closer.

"You can push me away but I'll just keep coming back. You can tell me you don't love me but I'll love you anyway. More even," her voice was thick with the tears she was fighting but she pressed on. She needed Cal to understand where he stood with her.

"So you're scared. I am too. But we can figure this out. That's what this is Cal. That's what we're about."

Hearing her reflect on the words he had preached to her a few nights ago when he was vulnerable and scared on her doorstep shook him to the core and he knew then with unwavering certainty that Gillian would never turn her back on him, that he would never be without her love.

"I love you more than anything."

"That's the problem, Love. That and the fact that I feel the same about you. This won't work because I will never be able to extricate myself from you. And it will end up killing me because all I'll do is disappoint you and myself in the process. You need to get out before I destroy you and your faith in love," is what Cal's bones burned to say but he felt his lips part and heard "I love you too," come out instead.

Gillian leaned into his chest and inhaled deeply in an effort to be as utterly consumed by him as she could be. She had spoken and Cal had listened but she couldn't be sure how much of what was said actually hit home with him. All she could do was hope that he would let them be happy together. His racing heart played a rhythm for her thoughts as Gillian tightened her hold on him, as if to will her heart to reassert its faltering grasp on the man she loved.

Cal wrapped his arms around her and pulled her head to his chest. He didn't have the heart to leave her behind, not when they've only just really found each other. It would have to come from her and Cal knew that after her impassioned declaration just then, it would take some doing on his part to bring it about.

* * *

_I think I can now say that this last bit was the reason for my procrastination. It hasn't been fun having this story in my head and writing it is even worse. However, all stories needs be told and so, on we forge..._


	8. Chapter 8

_Thanks to all who've decided to stick with this uneasy ride. Updates should happen faster now seeing as we're on to the final chapters and I always begin my stories at the end, which means they're already written:) _

* * *

Evening had startled to settle, bringing with it a brazen sense of laissez-faire at The Lightman Group. Most of the staff, including Loker and Torres, had already left for the day and the offices harbored a quiet calm that Cal embraced. It was his second day back at work after Gillian had made him take some time off to rest and regroup. He conceded only because he knew that she wouldn't stop hovering until she thought that he was okay. And so he became okay.

The reality, of course, was that he was nowhere near to putting the incident of Melissa's death behind him and still wholeheartedly carried the blame on his shoulders. Yes, he had been right about Rylands but he should have known there was more to the story; he should have dug deeper.

The DNA they found at the scene turned out to be that of Alice's biological father - a suspect in at least four murder cases that had run cold. With the help of Gillian and her expertise in profiling, the police were confident that they were close to finding him but because Peter and the baby were still missing, the likelihood of either of them being alive was slim.

Gillian had tried her best to ease the situation by attempting to rationalize Cal's actions, but she could not absolve him. The hazy image of the young mother's fearful face would swim into his mind every so often, always without warning, and Cal's guilt would resurface, each time stronger and more vengeful than the last. He had consequently resolved to keep his inner turmoil to himself in order to avoid the tiresome coddling from Gillian and also to keep Loker and Torres from questioning every decision he made.

Cal shut down his pc and pushed away from his desk, leaning back in his chair as he rubbed his temples. He was being sucked into that all familiar darkness with each passing moment and he was helpless to the fact. What he didn't want was to drag Gillian down with him because he couldn't guarantee that she would walk away unscathed. After his failed attempts to save her from him, Gillian had seemed reaffirmed in her commitment to their relationship and Cal had taken great care to play his role so as to elicit as little suspicion as possible – from her as well as everyone else. He barked at Loker more often than not, he was playful and upbeat when on Skype with Emily and he buried himself in the two new cases they had picked up over the past few days. The hardest part was keeping his slow-building agony from Gillian. She was sharp and she knew him better than anyone. It was because of this that Cal felt forced to limit the time they spent together. Work was easy; he could always find a reason to be busy or out of the office. The hiding became harder after hours and in the past few days, Gillian had stayed over only once. She had graciously accepted his excuses of needing time to himself with little questioning but Cal knew that he would not be allowed that grace for long. Soon there would be more questions and please explains, and he was not ready for either.

* * *

Gillian sat at her desk staring blankly at the paperwork in front of her. Her thoughts were miles away, or rather meters away, with Cal. The strain on their relationship from the Rylands case and his subsequent derailing was slowly beginning to fade. After a few days off, he almost seemed like his old self; a bit more subdued than usual but Gillian figured that it too, would abate with a little more time.

She knew that Cal was in a volatile space and previous experience had taught her that he was dangerous when he thought he had nothing to lose. Gillian sent up a silent hope that she would be enough to keep him from spiraling further out of control. It was hard work, the constant vigil she had to keep, the endless reassuring that he was fine and a few weeks ago, she may have been in two minds as to whether it was all worth it but now, she had faith that their relationship could withstand the onslaught. Their connection surpassed friendship, sex and even love; it had evolved to a level of symbiosis that neither would openly admit to but that couldn't be denied.

"When your mind drifts off, there's something that steals over your face that makes it – ethereal almost."

Gillian's head snapped up at the sudden assault on her silent contemplation and, relaxing somewhat, smiled at the culprit in her doorway. The smile was soft, a gesture that served to only emphasize the unearthly beauty her features took on in the dim light of her office.

"What are you after?" she teased.

"I can't compliment you without breeding suspicion?" Christian walked over to her and bent to place a kiss on her cheek which she easily accepted.

"You look beautiful," he said, his voice warm and sincere as his eyes stole over the length of her, indiscreetly pausing on her chest before meeting her gaze once more.

Gillian felt her face flush under his scrutiny and folded her arms to enforce the invisible barrier between them.

"That face," she said finally. "You're being nice to me because you're about to ask me for an impossible favor, aren't you?"

Christian tried to hide a mischievous grin as he sat down on the edge of her desk, allowing his leg to brush against the bare flesh of hers ever so lightly and seemingly nondescript. His intentions were not lost on Gillian however, but she knew that turning her chair away from him would create an implication that he would enjoy too much for her liking. And so she remained still, her leg up against his and her gaze unyielding in its action.

"Impossible is nothing for you, Doctor Foster."

"I knew it," she said as she smiled coyly. "So let's hear it then."

"Your associate saw a good friend of mine about a week ago."

"Ah, favors for friends. That's not good business practice, Attorney, you know that." Her tone was bordering on flirtatious and Gillian checked herself; surprised by her reaction to him.

"He's one of the best biochemists in his field and this evaluation was supposed to be nothing more than a formality."

"But-" she helped him along.

"But," he continued, enjoying the undercurrent of tension their close proximity created, "he wasn't validated. The report said something about too many negative indicators in his assessment."

"Ria is heading up this project because we have faith in her abilities. I don't see any reason to question her and I most definitely will not pull rank and reverse a decision she made based on the fact that he's a friend of yours." Gillian still smiled but her tone was firm.

"Have a drink with me and we can talk about it some more. Let me twist that beautiful arm of yours."

The request was unexpected and caught Gillian off guard. Her smile faltered as her mind groped for an appropriate response.

"Gill?"

"Uh - I'm going to have to pass." Her composure was back, albeit irresolute and Gillian was too late to stop her hand from nervously fiddling with her ear – a giveaway not unseen by the ever observant attorney who surveyed her with a knowing grin.

"Of course, you and Lightman are together now."

"Very much so," she said and let her eyes fall from his face for the first time.

"May I ask why you don't seem too happy about it?"

"I'm happy." Gillian forced a smile as she looked up at him again. Christian was unconvinced by the effort though and she dropped what remained of her guard with a heavy sigh.

"I am happy." This time her sincerity was more evident. "We're just dealing with the aftermath of a difficult case and things are – " The end of her sentence faded as her eyes misted up and found something to focus on in her lap.

She was surprised that Christian still had such a powerful effect on her. First the unabashed flirting and now this – allowing herself to be vulnerable in front of him when she was always careful to stay guarded. Since college, their relationship had been easy; their affection for each other had been instant and friendship evolved into something deeper without much effort.

Gillian felt his hand as he gently tucked her hair behind her ear and then lightly grazed her cheek with a subtle command which she obeyed. Meeting his eyes again, she was comforted by the sincerity she found there. Christian was an open book; something she had always taken for granted and Gillian admitted to herself for the first time how much she missed that with Cal, who was a quasi-constant fortress.

"You know I'm here," he said softly, his hand still on her face, "if you need to talk."

"Thank you," she responded with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes and finally allowed herself to turn from him, a creeping cold stealing over her leg that had been resting against his all this time; her cheek feeling sad and vacant at the loss of his hand.

Cal felt like an intruder as he watched the intimate scene unfold before him. He had decided he'd had enough of the day and came to Gillian's office with the intention of taking her home when he was stopped in his tracks by the form of one Christian Rourke. The attorney's back was facing the door and his frame blocked Gillian's view as well, which allowed Cal to remain unseen as he listened in on their conversation. He was struck by the sense of intimacy and ease that reverberated between the two friends and swallowed hard to get rid of the rising bile in his throat as the sickeningly familiar feeling of hopelessness enveloped him. _At least she would have someone_, he found himself thinking, _when all of this ends._ _At least she won't be alone._

Finding consolation in these thoughts, he stepped forward.

* * *

"Drinking yourself into a stupor every chance you get is not going to solve anything, Cal."

"At the risk of sounding like a child, I'll do what I want," he shot back, his words heavy with irritation. "And what did I tell you about acting like my doctor?"

"I'm worried about you. I thought you were okay but clearly you're not."

Gillian knew that Cal was upset by Christian's visit but he was civil and trite at the office and didn't say a word to her about it or anything else on the way home, a clear sign that something was wrong because it was unlike Cal to say nothing about anything. She had gone to shower and came back a half an hour later, dressed in one of his t-shirts, to find him in the kitchen almost halfway through a new bottle of scotch. His stubbornness and unwillingness to talk frustrated her. The fact that everything with him was so much work maddened her and she needed to talk, to understand why he fought so hard against her loving him.

"I don't want to talk. I don't want to think. Or feel. And this helps," Cal said as he emptied his umpteenth glass of whiskey, leaning on the counter with his shoulders hunched and head bowed low.

"I love you," Gillian said as she approached him, her words were hard and desperate. "Feel that."

Cal didn't move.

"What you're doing is hurting me," her voice quivered as tears filled her eyes. "Do you feel that?" Her exasperation was clear in her tone and she angrily pulled his arm from the counter to force him up straight.

Still, his eyes remained glued to the floor. Losing any measure of control she was holding onto, Gillian shoved him and he stumbled back a few paces. Surprised by the sudden outburst, Cal met her gaze and saw the tempest flaring in her eyes.

"Your constant pushing!" she shoved him again, "And pulling away!" and again, "Telling me I shouldn't love you!" One last shove sent him right up against the door behind him, "It's driving me crazy!" she ended, the tears streaming freely down her face as Cal simply stared at her, dumbfounded.

"Feel this." Gillian said as she closed the space between them with determined strides and pulled his face onto hers.

Her mouth was on fire as she forced Cal's lips apart, her tongue hungrily searching for a promise; acknowledgement; hope. She pressed herself up against him until she could feel the warmth of his body permeate the layers of clothing as her persistent hands worked to eradicate the barrier between them.

Cal's initial shock melted away with the last of his resolve as he succumbed to the building passion that threatened to consume him. He grabbed onto Gillian's hips and bucked into her, frantically grinding his captive rigidity against her exposed bone in fast mounting urgency. Claiming her mouth with a voracious hunger; he kissed her hard and deep, swallowing her moans as his tongue tried to satisfy the longing ache that was spreading through his body.

Gillian gave up on the struggle of unbuttoning his shirt and slid her hand down to his crotch, feeling his straining hard on grow even harder under her touch; all the time their tongues tirelessly dueling in a battle that neither was willing to surrender to. The throbbing in her core heightened to an almost painful level and the evidence of her unrestrained craving leaked onto her inner thighs with a hot, slippery wetness as her need to have him inside her tightened its possessive hold. His fingers dug into her hips and Gillian felt herself lift off the ground and slam into the side of the refrigerator with such force that she hit her head, but no remonstration was made. She had, after all, set the tone; this was not about tenderness and love but about gratification in its most primordial form, about the unquenchable need and want that spurred them both on.

Cal quickly freed his painfully thick, hard cock from his jeans and, cradling her legs in his arms, drove into her soaked, pounding core with such intensity her cries echoed around the room. He gave her body a moment to adjust to him inside her before thrusting into her again, and then again; building up an unsteady but decided rhythm, the purpose of which was simply to make Gillian cum as hard as he was about to.

"Harder." Gillian's breath was hot and ragged on his face; the raw yearning in her tone made Cal's desire to satisfy her surge stronger and hotter through his veins.

He obeyed and entered her with increasing force and pace, the refrigerator rocking awkwardly to the rhythm he created. Cal tried finding her mouth again but with his untamed thrusting, only managed to briefly brush her tongue with his before relinquishing the attempt. He buried his head in her neck as his focus returned to the tantalizing tease of Gillian's muscles contracting around his cock.

"Harder." Her breath was a moan as she dared to say it again.

She clung to him desperately; perfectly manicured nails digging into his back and legs quaking around his waist while waves of pleasure slowly rose in the depths of her core. A bestial growl escaped Cal as he pulled out and flung her onto the kitchen counter. He positioned himself behind her and without further fuss, forced into her as hard as he could; eliciting a cry from Gillian that rang through his ears long after it had stopped. The air was laden with sex and almost seemed to vibrate as the lovers filled the room with deep moans and heavy breathing; the sound of flesh smacking against flesh only serving to further fuel their naked desire. Gillian felt the familiar swirling deep in her belly and the ache in her core increased to a steady throb that burned to unravel as Cal salaciously spurred her on.

Noticing the change in her breathing, Cal snaked his arm around her waist and without sacrificing pace, slid two fingers between her folds. Her breath hitched as he ran his fingers along the sides of her swollen clit and then brought them together in a light grip while increasing the pressure and speed of his stroke. It was all Gillian needed to send her over the edge and her body was rapt with impassioned convulsions as her climax spread through her, hot and unyielding. Cal felt her legs trembling as they threatened to give in and as if on cue, spilled into her; an animal-like scream ripped out of him as his body shook with hard, irregular bursts until he too, was spent.

* * *

When she was sure that she could stand without collapsing, Gillian turned to find Cal buttoning his jeans; his chest visible through the bit of his shirt that she had managed to undo and glazed over with sweat. She studied his fluid movements silently until he looked up at her; a world of words passing through his gaze before he finally spoke.

"Everybody has their demons, Gill." He sighed heavily and wrapped his arms around her waist, staring deep into her eyes as he tried to find more words. She waited patiently.

"For a while, you made me forget about mine. But now, it's like they're starting to drown you out," he ended, resting his forehead against hers.

"I'm just going to have to talk a little louder then, won't I?" she said and kissed him, gently this time but determinedly; desperate to make him realize what he meant to her and the lengths she would go to for him.

They eventually broke for air and Cal pulled her into a tight embrace, as if holding onto her would keep him from drifting away. He closed his eyes and drank in the moment, sending up a silent hope that she would be enough to keep him from spiraling further out of control.

* * *

_TBC real soon!_


	9. Chapter 9

_I did a quick proof of this before posting so please forgive any mistakes. (I didn't want to read this chapter more than I needed to) Thanks again to those who've stuck with this, read and reviewed:)_

* * *

"Any word from Foster yet?" Loker asked as he walked into the lab.

Torres was seated at one of the monitors, studying an evaluation tape from earlier that afternoon. Having hit her stride, she was getting through more than five evaluations each day and was slowly but surely nearing her target of sixty-eight validated candidates.

"Nothing yet," she said as she sighed deeply and sunk back into her chair.

They had been left to take care of the office for most of the day after Wallowski requested that Cal and Gillian come down to the station. Carl Bleaker, the biological father of the missing baby was finally in custody and they needed to act fast if they wanted to find Peter and Alice. Loker and Torres waited on tenterhooks for the phone call from either of their bosses telling them that they made it in time or were too late.

"Have you tried calling?"

Loker shook his head as he pulled up a chair next to her.

"Have you?"

"I've been plowing through evals and then tapes of evals all day and when a free moment came up, I used it to go to get coffee."

"I just came to check if you needed help. No need to bite my head off."

"I don't have a good feeling about this," she sighed heavily.

"What, is the format not working?" Loker motioned toward the monitor with his head.

"No, I mean Lightman. He's been all over the place lately and Foster's been dancing around him like a lovesick puppy. Neither of them seems concerned about the rest of our cases."

"She does love him," Loker said softly, "and she's just worried about him, that's all."

"I'm sure she is, but how is that going to sound to our clients who want to know why we have to delay their cases or why the incomparable Doctor Lightman is randomly unavailable?" Her frustration with the situation was clear in her tone.

"Look, I was angry about it too," Loker offered in an attempt to rationalize, "but Foster is taking a lot of heat as it is. We can't hold her accountable for him on top of everything else."

"That's just it though, before this case, before the two of them… you know… she was so good at reigning him in. But now-"

"Things get complicated," Loker said simply. "And this isn't one of Lightman's benders or whatever. A woman is dead, and a baby might be, all as a direct consequence of a decision he made. I'm just saying, if it were me-"

"I can't have sympathy for someone with so little regard for anyone else," Torres shot back, her anger rising. "That's what this is."

"You may be right, but this'll blow over and Lightman will be back to normal."

"Meanwhile…"

"Meanwhile," he continued, "we take on what we can from the pending cases and do what we do best."

Torres surveyed her colleague thoughtfully. A few days ago he had gone off the handle at Gillian for allowing this to happen; now he was preaching to her about keeping a level head. It was easy from where he was sitting; he had had his chance to vent.

"Have either of you tried getting hold of Cal?"

Everything about Gillian's demeanor had an air of urgency about it as she swept into the lab, calling both Torres and Loker's attention. She came to a stop next to Loker's chair and stood with her hands on her hips, eyeing them expectantly.

"We've been waiting for one of you to call us actually. What happened? Did you get anything new from the guy?"

"Yes," Gillian responded hesitantly and then pursed her lips as she considered how she should continue, careful to choose her words correctly.

"But it wasn't what we were expecting."

"How so?" Torres asked, her interest piqued by Gillian's sudden mysteriousness.

"It turns out Carl and Peter were roommates for a short while in college. Carl was arrested on a few counts of aggravated assault and they fell out of touch. The fact that their paths crossed again through Melissa is just a fluke, according to him."

"Okay so what's the deal then?" Torres asked impatiently.

"Long story short – Carl was never interested in being Alice's father, he was too busy getting high and living out of other people's pockets. So when Peter offered to pay him to distract Melissa so that he could take off with the baby, he took the money without question. He says it wasn't his intention to kill her."

"And you believe him? Why didn't you bring him here?" Torres stood up to meet Gillian's eyes.

"It wasn't necessary. Both Cal and I were convinced that-"

"But his accusations imply-"

"We were right," Loker said almost to himself. "The sociopathic markers, everything." He shook his head slowly and looked up at Gillian who was trying hard to keep her composure.

"Which means," Torres said, her voice strained with an ominous tone, "Lightman was wrong. Peter is responsible for Melissa's death and Alice is now in the hands of a sociopath."

A dreadful silence stole over the threesome as they separately considered the ramifications this information would have on Cal and the downward spiral he'd been on.

"Where is Lightman?" Loker's question finally broke the quiet and hung in the air heavy with fear.

"I don't know," Gillian didn't meet his gaze as she bit her lip to hide its trembling. "He left the station after the interview and he's not answering my calls," she ended and her shoulders heaved with the staggered inhalation she took in a weak attempt to calm herself.

"You're worried," Loker observed pensively, "which means we should be worried."

"No, I-"

"This is not good," Torres said as she fell back into her seat.

"It's Cal," Gillian responded, a little too loudly and a little too upbeat to be convincing, even to herself. "He's probably off feeling sorry for himself in some seedy bar."

Both Loker and Torres knew better than to be persuaded by her performance.

"Now that it's pretty much confirmed he's the reason Melissa's dead, I think we're dealing with a little more than self pity here."

He didn't mean for it to, but Loker's words sent a crawling shiver up Gillian's spine as her heart acknowledged the truth her mind kept fighting against. She needed to find Cal, before it was too late.

* * *

The cab came courtesy of the bartender who stripped him of his keys before politely forcing him to leave the bar. It rolled to a slow stop and Cal looked out of the window at her house. There was a certain romance to those few hours between night and the next morning that made everything seem better than they were, and tricked people into thinking things were better than they seemed. His phone buzzed in his jeans pocket. He had put it on silent earlier that evening for just that reason; he knew he'd be disturbed and couldn't have any distractions with what he was about to do.

"Are you getting out, Mister?" the driver grunted at him.

Cal nodded slowly, ignoring the buzzing which eventually died and got out of the cab, watching as it pulled away and disappeared down the street. Turning to the house, he was struck by the heaviness in his chest that, try as he might, no amount of beer could diminish. He knew that he would never be able to walk away from Gillian, and even if he did, it wouldn't be enough. She would never abandon him. Especially now. No, he had to destroy what had taken them close to a decade to build; annihilate any hope of ever going back. It was the only way she would let him go. He thought of what it had taken for him to love her and knew without a doubt that he didn't have what it took to stop. But he could help her to.

Cal climbed the steps leading to her porch, his feet feeling like lead bricks. He felt sick to his stomach and it wasn't because of all the alcohol he'd just drowned himself in. Closing his eyes, he breathed the cold night air; filling his lungs to capacity and letting the chill settle there before slowly exhaling again.

Honey and almonds.

They were lying in her bed, their limbs tangled so he couldn't tell where he ended and where she began. His face was in her hair. Her hand rested lightly on his chest and he felt her body rise and fall to the rhythm of her breathing as she slept in his arms, her heartbeat pronounced against his ribs. As if her heart was his.

And then her face. She was looking up at him from his couch; eyes wide and vulnerable. He kissed her on the forehead and told her he loved her.

Now her breath came in hot, ragged gasps in his neck. He was inside her. Their bodies moving in perfect rhythm. She clawed at his back and cried out as they climaxed together. This time she was the one to say it. _I love you_.

His heart leapt as her laughter rang in his ears. It only made him want more. His fingers moved across her abdomen, relentlessly tickling her, oblivious to her desperate begging for him to stop.

She traced soft kisses on his neck. Moved up to his jaw. Then his lips. Her mouth opened to his and-

Cal tore his eyes open. This is what had brought him to this point. That girl, her baby, they would still be alive if it wasn't for his relationship with Gillian. He had lost himself in her. Doctor Cal Lightman the deception expert had been replaced by Just Cal, the man in Gillian's life. And for a long time he had wanted to believe that it would be enough for him. They were happy. But the cost of that happiness turned out to be too great. He wasn't meant for this. That life… that love… belonged to a different man.

Cal knocked on the door.

It was a while before he heard any sign of life inside but eventually he could make out her hazy figure as it approached and the door swung open lazily.

"I wondered where you were," was her greeting as she gave him the once over.

He looked a sorry sight, hair disheveled and clothing that hung almost apologetically from his downcast frame.

"Got held up at the bar," his tone was cold and flat as he walked in without waiting for an invitation.

"I can tell," she responded as she closed the door behind him.

When she turned around it was right into Cal, who wrapped his arms around her waist with what seemed like carefully coaxed movements. But he didn't look at her. That was not why he was there.

"Cal?" she tried to get his attention but his gaze hovered on the opening of her night shirt where her full breasts played in and out of sight as she breathed.

"Are you okay?" She tried again.

Cal swallowed hard and shut his eyes, briefly and tightly, as his phone started buzzing again.

"Take your shirt off." The command was simple enough but was met with confusion.

"Excuse me?"

He didn't bother to repeat himself and took matters into his own hands. Her night shirt fell to the cold floor with a whisper and Cal's eyes blazed as he took in the sight of her, his cock growing harder with each passing second. With no thought to mood or tenderness, he cupped her breast in his hand and bent to circle her nipple with his tongue. The sudden sensation of wet and warmth had an instant effect and he heard a deep moan that never left her throat. Cal bit down hard, forcing the moan to become a scream that this time was released. Satisfied, he straightened to undo his pants and she stepped in to kiss him but Cal pulled away. That was not the reason he was there.

He bore down on her, making her retreat with every forward step he took until she was up right up against the side of the sofa. His fingers went to work, deftly pulling her pants over her hips. She helped him by wriggling them down and kicking them off. She was perfect, but it was lost on Cal who wasn't looking. He freed himself from his jeans and moved into her, pushing his painfully hard cock up against her thigh, a motion that made her fall back onto the couch, her legs splayed over the armrest. Cal positioned himself on top of her, lifted her hips and forced himself into her. He was surprised at how wet she was without any foreplay and the idea that she was waiting for him made him even harder. Cal let her heat take him in fully before he started thrusting repeatedly, aggressively, a man on a mission. He buried his face in her neck to save himself the hassle of avoiding her incessant advances to take his mouth with hers. What he was doing wasn't about intimacy or making a connection. It wasn't even about the sex really. Cal needed release. He wanted to be free from the beast that prowled in his heart. The beast that brought him happiness; the happiness that cost a young mother her life. He needed to break from its clutches; silence it once and for all.

Her smile.

He grunted at the feel of her nails through his shirt as they dug into his back. She was begging for more. Harder. Faster.

Her musky smell crept up on him and he pressed his eyes closed again in an attempt to dispel the images that flashed in his mind.

Her freckles.

The renewed buzzing, now at his ankle, snapped him out of the moment and Cal pulled out of her, gathered himself and drove into her again. He groaned and thrust deeper into her. Harder. Faster.

That damn buzzing.

He took the flesh of her neck between his teeth and bit down hard, eliciting a cry that rang with notes of both pleasure and pain.

The nape of her neck.

Cal felt his hard on start to fade and his heart sank.

"What are you-?"

He pushed himself from her as if she were poison and staggered backward, not meeting her gaze as he pulled up his pants.

"Cal?"

Wiping the sweat from his face, he started for the door, his pocket vibrating against the still warm memory of her on his thigh.

"Are you kidding me?" She called after him; the anger and humiliation clear in her voice.

Cal felt her tug at his arm but he shook her off effortlessly and stepped outside, swaying a little as the door slammed shut behind him.

The cool air did little to ease the waves of nausea that had returned to take over his body. He took deep, slow breaths in an attempt to steady himself; his heart pounding as it raced to catch up with his mind. Swiping at the wetness on his face again, it was a second before realization hit. He froze in horror as he brought his hand down and watched as the light from the porch played on the salty traces left there; not of sweat as he had first presumed, but of tears.

Cal grabbed for his now silent phone and although he knew what he would find when he looked at it, his stomach lurched as the screen came to life in his hand.

Twelve missed calls from Gillian.

He doubled over and threw up on the steps that had led him to that moment and knew, with panic and horror, that going back down them would not make that moment end.

* * *

_Things get terribly angsty from this point but it's not all bad I promise!_

_Please let me know what you think and if it's possible, keep the hating to a bearable level:p_


	10. Chapter 10

_I know I promised quicker updates but working on my novel and post cancellation blues made it virtually impossible to get this typed up! But it's here now:) _

_I dedicate this chapter to pjstillnoon, who gets all of this and without whom this update would probably never have been made._

_And to you, constant reader, for sticking with it even when it goes to places you'd rather not. Thank you. Your pay-off is looming... _

_PS. No real edits or proofs were undertaken so please forgive any errors._

* * *

The sapid smell of freshly brewing coffee was the first thing Cal became aware of as Sleep started to relinquish its deathly embrace. He didn't make to open his eyes or even move right away, giving his body time to assimilate its newfound state of wakefulness. Every possible muscle ached and his brain pounded in his skull - the bitter remnants of a night of over-indulgence. He shifted uncomfortably; he was not in his bed. His eyes flew open then as the horror of being where he was not supposed to gripped his chest. Relieved, Cal slowly let go of the breath he had been holding as his eyes fell on the familiar objects in his living room. Sounds of life in the kitchen married with the intoxicating smell wafting through the house, led him to the slow realization that he was not alone. He swallowed hard to get his heart out of his throat and back down to his chest where it ought to be and tried to pull himself up. This new plan was quickly abandoned though as the room started spinning with vengeance at the smallest attempt of him lifting his head. Cal groaned loudly and squeezed his eyes shut in the hope that the blackness would help his body remember the simple science of gravity and the art of balance, instead of threatening to fall despite the fact that he was lying down.

"Here, have this."

Cal had naturally assumed that it had been Gillian in his kitchen but nonetheless felt his body tense up at the sudden sound of her voice next to him. He opened his eyes; slowly this time so that his mind wouldn't think he was falling again and found Gillian perched on the edge of the coffee table in front of him, beer in hand.

"Are you trying to kill me?" His voice was thick and raspy with sleep and a hacking cough ripped through him as his throat tried to clear itself.

"Bite the snake that bit you," she said simply when his coughing had died down, an open beer in her outstretched hand.

"Ingenious, Love, but I couldn't tell you how many different snakes I was bitten by and I have no clue which one of them is responsible for this."

He craned his neck and saw her steaming mug of coffee on the table behind her.

"Can I go with what's behind door number two instead? Hold the milk and sugar."

"Fine," was her short response as she rose from the table.

"I'm also going to need about forty aspirins and a gallon of water, there's a good girl," he spoke to her back and because his eyes were closed again, he did not see Gillian's irritated eye roll as she disappeared into the kitchen.

* * *

"You didn't have to stay," Cal said, his voice low and melancholy, his gaze fixed on the last sip of cold coffee in his cup.

He had finally managed to sit up, with Gillian's help, and they were both now seated on the sofa; the morning quickly losing its fight to the afternoon as the sun filtered harshly into the room and played with the shadows on the floor.

"I was tired," Gillian's tone matched his as she spoke, but not into her cup; her eyes never left his face as she waited for him to give her anything other than pain and guilt.

"It was 5am and I didn't feel like the drive home."

Cal looked up at her then, his apology etched in every line on his face and brimming deep in his eyes.

"I'll give you time," Gillian said, "and when your head is clear you can apologize to me but that," she motioned to his face, "I won't accept. Not for this."

He let his eyes fall back to his cup, once again wracked by guilt. She was sitting close enough to him that the warmth of her body crept up the one side that was closest to her. Her proximity made him feel dirty but not the kind that a shower could cure. If only, Cal thought bitterly, he could erase the previous night with a few drops of water and soap.

"Where were you last night?"

Her voice sounded a million miles away as it came to fetch him while he wandered about the tumult of thoughts and emotions in his head. Cal looked up at her once again and tried to speak. It should have been easy; this was, after all what he had wanted. He should tell her. That was the point of this exercise. He wanted to destroy their relationship and telling Gillian the truth about where he had been would do it. But it would also destroy her. And Cal couldn't bear having that responsibility lie with him; despite all his efforts and calculations and rationalizations he couldn't bring himself to open his mouth.

How had this all made sense just a few hours ago? Why had hurting Gillian and himself been his only obsession for so long when she was the one good thing in his life? If he had those answers the night before, they had disappeared in the foggy hours between then and now.

"Okay, let's start with something a little easier," Gillian broke into his reverie yet again. "Why didn't you answer any of my calls?"

"Can we not do this now?" The words came out in a heavy sigh as Cal waited impatiently for the aspirin to start doing their job; his head pounding relentlessly.

"You don't get to establish the rules after the stunt you pulled. I want to know-"

"Gillian. Please." He tried hard not to sound like he was pleading when that was exactly what he was doing. "Later. I'll answer anything you want."

Cal hoped she didn't notice the split second it took for him to hide the fear that clouded over his face. The time would come, he was sure, when he would have to tell her everything. And then he would lose her. Just like he had wanted and never wanted to.

Gillian studied him carefully, her stoic expression an inaccurate display of the emotional storm occurring inside her. She was sitting with him, close enough to hear his breathing but he felt miles away. Something felt inherently different about him. About them. She couldn't put her finger on it but she felt it in the depths of her being that whatever it was, it was big and it would change them forever. Gillian swallowed the lump that had risen in her throat and took a deep steadying breath to shake the ominously icy feeling of unease that had begun to envelope her.

"Fine," she acquiesced. "I have to get a change of clothes and then I'll be back to-"

"Don't," Cal cut her off abruptly and watched as her brows furrowed in confusion. "Don't come back."

He couldn't be sure if the fear behind her eyes was her own or merely a reflection of his but carried on nonetheless.

"There's something I need to take care of." Was the best explanation he could offer. On further introspection, Cal decided that it was the most he could offer at that point.

"So you're not up for talking but you feel fine enough to take care of things." Gillian didn't bother to mask the bitterness in her tone as her head reeled with possible theories to explain Cal's behavior. He didn't answer but she didn't need one; the look on his face was enough.

"Fine."

She felt herself give in yet again and wondered how far she would have to be pushed by him before she dug in her heels and stood her ground. A faint flicker of something along the lines of _Never_ swam through her head and Gillian wrestled it into submission before it had a chance to take hold and settle in her heart. She needed to believe that she still had her power where Cal was concerned. It was imperative that she did not lose herself in him for both their sakes because heaven knew he needed her to be able to say no to him as much as she did.

* * *

"Do you know that Foster's back?" Torres watched Cal closely but if her words meant anything to him, his face didn't show it.

He continued to stare unblinkingly at the giant projected image on the wall of his office. She nodded slowly. Of course he knew. The question was not whether he was aware of Foster's return but rather why he was seemingly unfazed by it.

Gillian had not gone back to Cal's that night. Or the night after that for that matter. He hadn't tried calling her and she had kept her distance like she promised. After not showing up for work on Monday, Tuesday morning saw Anna getting a somewhat cryptic phone call from the doctor, saying that she would not be in the office for a couple of days and that she could be reached on her cell if there was an emergency.

It wasn't an emergency but, despite vehement protests and nagging pleas to mind her own business from Loker, Torres called her immediately after getting the news. On the one hand Cal had withdrawn to the confines of his study, appearing only for brief stints in the cube during which he was decidedly less animated (but thankfully no less brilliant) and on the other, the only balanced and dependably stable member of their team had gone AWOL. Gillian wasn't very forthcoming about the reasons behind her sudden leave of absence but allowed Torres an admission to the fact that she needed to take some time to herself and that she would be back no later than the end of the week.

It was Thursday and, asserting her reputation as dependable, Gillian was at her desk and wading through the mounds of paperwork that had accumulated; neither one of the dynamic duo heading up The Lightman Group anxious to see or speak to the other. This sent alarm bells off for Torres who, having a nose for other people's business, felt that the cold war between her bosses could bode unspeakable ramifications for the Group as a whole; and she was not planning to let that happen without a fight.

"Did you not hear what I said?"

"Did you not notice me ignoring you?" Cal turned to her finally. "I was under the impression that we were working. Unless I'm mistaken and what we're actually here to do is talk about things that don't concern you."

"I just thought it strange that-"

"I don't care what you think. If it's not about that man and why he's showing contempt when talking about his son-in-law, I don't want to hear it!" He raised his voice at this last as his rising temper made its way to the surface.

"Look," Torres persisted, "working here has become unbearable. You and Foster need to-"

It was as if the final mention of her name flipped a switch inside Cal and he advanced on Torres, nostrils flaring as he bared down on her.

"You're going to need to stop talking now," he said, his voice low and trembling with the effort it took him to keep it that way.

Cal's impassioned words of warning seemed to slap her as he spoke but Torres did not back down and defiantly held his unwavering gaze as she tried to read what was streaming unguarded across his face.

"I'd listen to him if I were you," Wallowski's voice ripped through the tension in the room and created a new sense of strain with her presence. "Lightman doesn't play nice when he can't get his way."

She glowered at Cal and inwardly reveled at the pained expression his face now wore. Torres shifted her gaze between the fuming detective and her boss who had turned a sickly green color and her interest in why Cal suddenly looked ready to throw up where he stood was instantly aroused.

It was the first time he had laid eyes on her since that night and her sudden appearance in his office, while his guard was down, felt like a punch in the gut. There was no time to school his expression into one of nonchalant aloofness and he had already lost the battle to remain composed. Cal swayed slightly on the spot where he stood, using what felt like every ounce of his will to keep his knees from buckling and watched as Wallowski took meaningful steps in his direction. He felt the air next to him cool and fill with emptiness and assumed that Torres, after having sensed the looming confrontation, had backed away.

"So I got in to work this morning and was told that the Captain wanted to see me," Wallowski started once she was close enough to Cal so that even though her voice was barely above a whisper, he could hear her loud and clear.

His gaze faltered and it was enough of a reaction to confirm Wallowski's suspicions. She carried on.

"He waved a big yellow envelope in my face, something he got from an unnamed source."

This time Cal felt himself lose the game as he looked down and away; his feet carried him a step back as he subconsciously fought for some form of defense.

"I trusted you." Her words were terse and loaded with loathing that knocked Cal off balance once more and he shifted uncomfortably, guiltily on the spot.

It was the thing he had to take care of a few days earlier. He had changed his mind about everything. He didn't want to lose Gillian and in order to keep things from coming out, he would have to take care of Wallowski. Cal had taken the folder he had compiled on her and the not-so-above-board activities she was involved in and dropped it at the station for the Captain's attention. He knew that she would for the very least be suspended, at the most fired and hoped with every bone in his body that either outcome would end in her relocating. What he hadn't figured into the equation was this – a confrontation with the one thing he wanted most to forget.

"He took my badge. I'm suspended pending a disciplinary hearing which we both know is not going to end in my favor. But that's what you want. You want me out. Gone. Because you think if I'm not around it didn't happen."

Cal wanted to say something, but he didn't know what. His jaw tightened as he struggled to keep his eyes locked with hers without letting his face give her any more than she already got. And all the while Torres stood watching as the scene unfolded, the horror that came along with slow realization as the pieces started falling into place. Cal was right, it wasn't always good to be able to see everything, to know everything.

"I'll tell you one thing," Wallowski said as she backed away from Cal, sneering as she went, "it's going to take more than that to ease a guilty conscience. It doesn't matter what you take from me, you're going to lose everything."

And as suddenly as she had appeared, she was gone – leaving a downtrodden Cal and a reeling Torres in her wake. He didn't move and neither did she; both seemingly suspended in time as their minds tried to catch up to the moment.

It struck Torres how much Cal had changed in such a short time. Not too long ago it was so that the mere idea of Doctor Cal Lightman would intimidate and impress and cause admiration and applause. Her heart broke as she surveyed the defeated man standing in front of her now and years of awe and respect rushed over her._ I'm still me_, his eyes seemed to implore as they bore into hers. _Just lost, is all_. Torres felt the familiar warm sting of tears as they welled up and she willed them not to fall; she knew how much Cal hated overt displays of emotion at work. And yes, he was still there, she could feel it. But what it would take to find him again, she didn't have the faintest idea. Minutes seemed to pass over the silence between them until eventually:

"I know you probably have your reasons," her tone was cool and even as she spoke, "but if you don't tell her, I will."

Cal closed his eyes at her words and it was as if hearing them from someone else was what he needed; he had to tell her, there was no other way forward. It would break him. And it would destroy Gillian. And it was all his fault. How he would live through this was unclear but Cal knew that it was time to take responsibility and stop hiding.

When next he opened his eyes, he was alone.

* * *

_So this was a bit of a transition chapter which is difficult to write at the best of times but so often necessary in multi-chaps. But we're getting there... Promise:)_


	11. Chapter 11

_Thanks goes out to PJ for she knows what and why and when. Always a pleasure:)_

* * *

Cal had decided to hide out in his study to get some writing done, but didn't get very far before the last few days of constant worry and nights of sleep deprivation settled on him with an unyielding grip and lulled him to sleep. Gillian being away did not help at all in easing the agonizing throes of shame and regret that he was in. When he was awake, there was a constant knot of anxiety in his stomach as memories of his infidelity painfully dogged him, and in sleep the nightmares came.

They varied in content from literal to symbolic but the ending was always the same: he was bleeding - dying perhaps - and Gillian was carrying him to what felt like a place of safety. Her steps were labored and her hands dug into him, determined to not let him fall. Arms wrapped tightly around her neck, he would give a blood-choked whisper, _Don't let go_. The effort and concentration showed on her face as she slowly made her way, breathing strained and heavy but all the time holding onto him for dear life. And then she would simply stop walking, look down at him and say: _I'm so tired, Cal. I don't think I can do this_. And always, always he would turn his head and see their destination less than fifty feet away. Fear and desperation would grip him and he would tighten his grasp around her neck, begging her to not give up; pleading with her to keep trying. And always, always when next he looked up at her she would be faceless – the lack of features sheer torment to the man who lived his life by them. This was usually when Cal would force himself awake, distraught by the horror of it all; a faceless Gillian too much for him to bear. His thoughts would often linger on what would happen if he didn't wake up: would she give up on him or would she hold on? And often he would run those thoughts off, too terrified to know the answer.

Gillian found Cal at his desk, glasses askew and head lolled back; his soft snores the only sign that he was asleep and not dead. She cocked her head to the side, her features visibly softening as she took in the sight of him; he seemed so vulnerable in sleep, something he usually managed to mask very well during waking hours. Lately, however, that mask was beginning to falter. There were even times when Gillian was sure she had seen a fleeting flash of terror cloud his face before he quickly, almost reflexively, checked himself.

She knew that he was going through a challenging time, a lot of people struggled to deal with change and Cal was one of them; their relationship, Emily going to live in another country and then there was Melissa Creever – always her – lurking in the darkest and most guarded corners of Cal's mind. Gillian had watched him fall apart before and she had been there to pick up the pieces and now the change in their relationship made that job harder; the closer she was to Cal, the easier it was for him to hurt her, no matter how unintentional that may be. That was the reason she had kept him at arm's length all those years but now there was nowhere to hide, she was first in line when the walls started to shake and was already feeling the ramifications thereof. What scared her was that now that she was this close, she didn't know what to expect when those walls started to crumble.

A few days ago, Gillian didn't know if she had the defenses she needed to shield herself – her heart – from what Cal was capable of doing. She had thought that after she confronted him, that things would get better; that he would realize that she was there to stay and wanted to share his sorrows as much as his exultations. Gillian knew better than to expect a complete turnaround overnight and was thus prepared that this next phase of their relationship would take some time, but the look on Cal's face the morning after he had been out all night had unsettled her. It felt like there was something hanging in the air between them, the nature of which was known to only one of the two, and it wasn't her. She had fretted about whether she had in fact gotten through to Cal and if she hadn't, was this a fight she was prepared to finish? But perspective had pushed through while she was away and now she felt like a deep sea diver coming up for air after what felt like forever. There was a sense of clarity and simplicity about things that comforted her, encouraged her to try harder. She loved him. And in that moment, with that knowledge, she assured herself that she would be fine. They both would.

"I thought I'd find you in here," she said as she walked over to his sleeping form; the soft caress of her hand on his cheek gently stirred him back to life.

Cal opened his eyes to find her standing over him, a sweet smile playing on her lips. He straightened slowly, and with some difficulty from the damage the uncomfortable chair had caused to his aging back. The smile he offered her in return surprised him; it came easily and without warning and it was the first time in a long time that Cal wasn't afraid of his face showing what he was feeling.

"I know you've been having trouble sleeping but having a nap in your office in the middle of the day doesn't create a good impression to those who are so easily impressed by you," she said half jokingly as she sat on the edge of his desk in front of him.

"Just meeting expectations like I do best." His response was unforced and reminiscent of a time when this was what it was like between them. He really had missed her.

"Are you okay? You barely said two words when you picked me up from the airport last night. You said there was something we needed to talk about," she ended, watching him expectantly as he stretched and rested back in his chair again.

"I don't think we should do this now, Gill."

"No that's not what I was saying, I just – We're okay, Cal." Her eyes bore into his and he saw her sincerity but also what looked a lot like desperation as she spoke.

"At first I struggled with how everything with Melissa's case was affecting us and I was mad at you for being so insistent about dealing with it alone. But I'm not mad anymore and if you need space then I'll give it to you, just don't shut me out. We all make mistakes and you need to stop beating yourself up about this."

This last struck a chord deep within him as he held her gaze, struggling to keep the guilt from showing. And if it did, Cal thought bitterly, she would think it had to do with the case and not with the fact that he had cheated on her. No, Gillian would never think he would be capable of such a betrayal and it broke his heart to think on it. He was about to do more than destroy their relationship; he was about to destroy her faith in love, which was a crime far worse than the former and it killed Cal to know that he was the one responsible for it. All these years, all the times he had looked out for her and warned her against the Alecs and Burnses of the world only to now find himself making them look like ace candidates for her heart after all. He slowly came out of the encircling thoughts to find that she was still talking.

"…and this is us. What I'm saying is that we can find strength in each other. I'm here for you, Cal, always. And as long as you don't keep shutting me out, we'll be fine. As long as we remember what brought us here, we're okay."

A pained smile stretched onto his face in a weak attempt to match Gillian's but this time it didn't feel natural and easy, this time it almost hurt. He knew that he didn't have much time to keep dancing around the issue, what with Torres in the know and his idiotic way of trying to handle Wallowski that only ended up making things a whole lot worse. He should not have been that underhanded but as with every decision he'd made lately, Cal couldn't find rhyme or reason. It was as if he was feeling around in the dark, looking for himself and always coming up empty handed.

He watched Gillian watch him, sure that she wanted him to respond with something profound and life-affirming but the truth was that he was afraid to open his mouth in case the wrong words spilled out. So instead, Cal plastered his best I'm fine face with a somewhat convincing grin and said:

"Come home tonight. I'll cook you a dinner fit for a woman who can't really cook so loves anything I make."

His charm deflected from the conversation as he had hoped it would and Gillian let out a soft chuckle as she bent to kiss him. She aimed for his cheek but Cal turned to catch her full on the lips and took her mouth with his. She startled at first but quickly succumbed to the warm sensation of his tongue and reciprocated his gentle motions with her own. He relished in her taste, commending himself for realizing in time that the kiss she was aiming for could very well have been their last and a peck on the cheek was not how he wanted to remember it.

* * *

"I'm sure you must be missing the quiet control of private practice right about now," Loker said as he fell in step with Gillian as she left Cal's office.

"Are you kidding me? I was going crazy over there."

"Break room?"

She nodded and followed Loker in.

"I brought my last patient to tears because I couldn't stop myself from interrupting to tell her I knew that what she had just said was a lie."

Loker laughed as he poured them both huge mugs of steaming coffee. Gillian took a sip and grimaced.

"We really need to get better beans," she said and sat down at one of the tables with Loker close behind.

"So you made her cry?"

"Eventually I just yelled at her, I know that you're lying so why do you keep doing it?"

"You're actually serious," Loker said, reading Gillian's animated hand gestures and face as portraying the truth. "You're a monster."

"She was ten so it didn't take much."

They both started laughing then and Gillian felt a feeling of relief steal over her - having a laugh over bad coffee with Loker - things seemed to be going back to normal.

Gillian had always had an easy relationship with him, perhaps it was because Loker was the what-you-see-is-what-you-get kind of guy. There was always an unspoken sense of trust between them and it was because of that, that he was the only other person save Cal, who knew the full story of what she had been doing in Vancouver the past few days.

"So what happened while I was away?"

"Same old, you know how it goes."

"Tell me something, anything. I don't want to go back to my backlog of reports just yet."

"Well, I have this rash-"

"Okay, no," Gillian held up both her hands to silence him.

"What? It's not what you think."

"I'm not thinking anything because you didn't say anything," Gillian managed to say through her fit of laughter. "I'm officially erasing the last minute of conversation from time and space."

"Eli," Anna's head appeared in the doorway and the mirth between the two colleagues and in that moment, friends, quickly fizzled away, "your two o' clock is in interview room one."

"Oh there's a two o' clock?" Gillian said before Loker could respond, rubbing her hands together in excitement. "Let me at him."

"It's a her actually and you don't even know the case." But Loker may as well have been talking to himself because Gillian was already on her way out.

"You can brief me on our way," she said as she took the case file from Anna and left.

"She's back."

"It certainly looks that way," Loker replied as he left the break room in pursuit of Gillian.

* * *

"So she's the cousin of the ex-wife," Gillian asked as Loker caught up with her, somewhat out of breath.

"No, she's the ex-wife."

"Right, and the ex-wife is-"

"Dead. Look, just give me the file," Loker said in exasperation and tried to swipe the folder from her but came up at a loss as Gillian, sensing his intentions, moved it quickly out of his reach.

She surveyed Loker with a self-satisfied smirk, enjoying the look of sheer annoyance on his face so much that it took a moment for her to process the fact that she had walked right into Torres and the contents of the folder she was carrying now lay strewn in a fantastical pattern of chaos at their feet.

"Welcome back, Boss" Torres said as she turned to find Gillian regaining her balance, looking flustered while she did.

Gillian started to formulate an appropriate response but when she looked up, her eyes found the piercing blues of one Christian Rourke. The achingly handsome attorney stood beside Torres and met Gillian's unmitigated surprise with a cheeky grin.

"Fancy running into you here," Gillian managed to eventually verbalize.

She was vaguely aware of Torres staring and Loker frantically gathering papers at her feet but her eyes never left Christian's crisp pools of blue.

"And almost literally too," he teased. "Luckily I was a total ass today and disregarded the ladies first rule or it would have been me you owed an apology to."

"Sorry," Gillian meekly offered to Torres after picking up on the obvious hint from the attorney. "Eli distracted me."

An "Oh so it's my fault?" was heard from the ground but none of the party left standing offered any form of acknowledgement to its source.

"Nice to have you back."

"You were away?" Christian asked once again cutting off Gillian's response to Torres.

"Just for a few days," she said after taking time to choose her words carefully and offered him a stiff smile.

Torres intuitively picked up on the shift in Gillian's demeanor and tried to change the subject.

"I was just giving Mr. Rourke a progress report on the evaluations. He wanted to know why we're running behind schedule with the placements."

Gillian nodded in feigned interest and her face gave Torres the relieved thanks she couldn't say out loud.

"Business or pleasure?" Christian asked, the distraction having clearly failed.

"Neither," Gillian replied quickly and finally gave her attention to Loker, who was standing again and trying to arrange the papers into the folder. "We should get going."

"You're welcome," he said as Gillian took the folder from him and started down the hall.

"Save the sulking for later and come on," she said over her shoulder.

Loker made to follow her but Torres' hand on his arm brought him to a stop.

"Uh, Mr. Rourke, if you don't mind."

"Of course. Thank you for your time, Ms Torres. I appreciate you hearing me out." He flashed a gorgeous smile before turning to leave and she finally understood why her boss subconsciously assumed Flirt Mode in his presence. The man was a god.

"What's up?" Loker asked when he was sure that Christian was out of earshot.

"Did you talk to her?"

"Did I talk to who? Or is it whom? I never get that right."

Torres pursed her lips in frustration and planted a punch on Loker's upper arm.

"Ow, okay, geez. Yeah I talked to her and she's fine. As you can tell," he gestured down the hall which was now empty as Gillian had disappeared into the interview room.

"What did she say about where she was? Do you know?"

"Why are you so obsessed with this?" Loker expertly avoided answering the question. "You've been acting like a crazy person the last few days."

"I'm not obsessed, I'm concerned. And it's because nobody else seems to care."

"Care about what? What goes on in their personal lives has nothing to do with me."

"They own this company, Eli. Which means they own us. If shit goes down and for some reason things fall apart here – should I attach illustrations for you?"

"First of all, you need to calm down," Loker's tone was even and controlled, much like when speaking to a child, which only seemed to rile Torres up even more.

"Second of all," Loker continued, ignoring her rising impatience with him, "I have a client waiting," he ended and tried to leave again.

But again, he was hindered. This time, Torres' grip on his arm was tight enough for him to feel her nails through his shirt.

"Loker-"

"Ow! Would you stop that?" He pried her hand from his arm with some effort and then placed his on her shoulders so that he could look her square in the eye.

"Look, you have nothing to worry about. Foster's fine. Which means she and Lightman are fine."

A shadow of doubt passed behind Torres' eyes but Loker didn't notice.

"And if shit goes down, like you say, we'll be fine. Okay?"

He accepted her silence as agreement to what he was saying and dropped his hands from her.

"It's not just us I'm worried about," she said almost to herself.

Loker was already on his way down the hall but turned and, walking backwards replied:

"People break up all the time, Ria. We made it out okay, didn't we?" He responded with a warm smile before turning back around, leaving a crestfallen Torres in his wake.

They made it out. But they didn't have a decade of friendship and trust and loyalty at stake. And they didn't have betrayal. Betrayal was always a game-changer; a reaper of destruction both physical and emotional. Torres wondered what the body count would be once Cal came clean, and whether The Lightman Group would be able to survive the devastation.

* * *

_The Big Confession coming up!_


	12. Chapter 12

**Sorry for the long wait but this has been a battle - because of the content, because of my muse and mostly because LTM got cancelled. I'm so over it though. Every time I rewrote this chapter (and there were many rewrites), I died a little. Posting is simply a way of me getting rid of this so that I don't have to read (or write it again). Eternal thanks to EndlessSummar for never getting off my case about this. I would probably have never posted this if it wasn't for you. And PJ, always PJ... I can't talk the English enough so good with words to say. **

**Now quit it already, this is not what you came here to read. Get on with it! And let me know if the thousand deaths I died while writing this was for nothing.**

* * *

Cal stood over the toilet and watched as the swirls of water wrestled for dominance in a match neither could win. The peak of his anxiety was now nothing more than a bitter taste in his mouth. He glanced down at his watch; the silent bowl no longer intriguing enough to hold his attention. Ten minutes had passed since he had excused himself from the table, leaving Gillian to consider her second glass of wine. He had had nothing to drink. His stomach would barely allow him to eat. He wished he could down an entire bottle of wine, it would make what he was about to do sting a little less. However, Cal took comfort in the fact that Gillian was buffering herself quite well, whether she realized it or not.

The first lazy notes of one his Coltrane albums wafted up through the bathroom door. It seemed that downstairs a mood was being set. His heart sank even deeper; Gillian had been in high spirits of late, like she was starting to find her happiness again after everything they had been through with the case and his_ – his what?_ She obviously thought that tonight was about starting again; about putting the darkness behind them and moving on. But not tonight, Cal thought as he made to open the door, tonight was about endings. It had to be. An end to him lying to her about what really happened and in effect, an end to the one thing in his life that made him happy.

His feet were heavy as he made his way down the staircase; feeling sick to his stomach, but it was a feeling he fought to control for now. Maybe it would subside once he talked to Gillian, maybe not. Cal thought that he didn't quite deserve to feel anything but sick for the rest of his life as penance for hurting her, however small a penance it may be. A pain stole across his chest and he felt his heart shrink a little at the thought. He hated that he had become the man he was supposed to protect her from. He hated that he couldn't be the man she deserved and more than that, he hated that for a while he actually believed he might be worthy of her. At the same time a quiet thought entered his mind – he didn't try hard enough. They could have been happy and he could have been what she needed but he didn't even try.

Life had a sick sense of humor and Gillian had been the butt of the joke more than she deserved but she was stronger for it. Would this be her breaking point though? Would this be the time she doesn't get back up and move on? Terror sprang up inside him as he got closer to the bottom of the stairs, a terror now strikingly familiar. If they were lucky enough to find a new beginning then great, but he was not going to become every other man in Gillian's life and lie to her. Not any longer anyway. A faint hope burned in Cal's heart that maybe that would count for something. Just maybe it would be the one thing that made him worth forgiving. He reached the foot of the stairs and waited; the lights had dimmed and what was supposed to be an intimate atmosphere took on a terrifyingly foreboding leer.

"You left me alone with the wine," Gillian's voice broke through his reverie and Cal looked up to find her standing in front him, glass in hand. "So now I may be a little tipsy, which is embarrassing because you're not." A girlish little snort escaped her and Gillian covered her mouth.

A pained smile flickered on Cal's face at the sound of her laughter and he knew that this would have to be like pulling off a band aid if he wanted to get through it alive. He stepped into her and breathed deeply, slowly inhaling her sweet scent so that he could submit it to memory. This would be where he would have to find her after tonight he was sure. His memory. And he wanted to burn her in there, every last bit of her. His eyes drifted over Gillian's face as his mind worked her into place; every freckle, every line, the smiling eyes, the slightly upturned corners of her lips, how pink they were even though she wasn't wearing any lipstick. He tried to find the memory of their taste, what they felt like on his lips and was struck with horror when he couldn't. A panic spread through his body starting in his chest and moving to his legs and arms, making them feel heavy and not his own.

As if sensing Cal's need, Gillian's mouth found his. It was a simple kiss, gentle and effortless, like it was one of thousands more they would have in the future. Cal accepted it. He now had the taste and the feel he was looking for and if that was all he could get he would take it. Gillian edged her face from his only far enough so she could look at him, that smile still playing on her lips. She was studying him now and Cal knew that she could probably sense there was something he was not saying. A heavy sigh escaped him. It was not how he intended to start but let it go nonetheless.

"There's something I have to tell you, Gill."

The hard part was over, he thought. He set up the conversation and now all that was needed was for him to spit it out. The harder part. His arms were still wrapped around her and it took a conscious effort to let them drop to his sides again as he backed away from her. Cal noticed a slight frown mar her perfect features but only for a second before it was wiped away by a bemused grin.

"Okay," her voice came to him, hesitant but her tone still light and playful. His heart broke.

"It's about the other night."

Cal turned his body to face a bit away from her, hands dug deep into his pockets and his gaze focused on a spot on the floor close to her feet. She didn't say anything, she was giving him a chance to find his pace, say what he wanted to say in his own time. That was so like her. The good doctor. He could feel her waiting, Coltrane buzzed around his head and suddenly it was hard to think anymore. How could things get so ugly so quickly? He wasn't supposed to be the one to let her down. And yet here he stood, and of his own doing to top it all. That last thought seemed to bring Cal back to himself. He stood a little straighter and lifted his gaze to meet hers with new resolve. This was his fault and he wasn't going to be a coward about it and god, she was beautiful. His heart broke again.

"The night I came home pissed out of my mind," he watched as her face broke into a smug smile.

"The morning, you mean," she cut in. "I was here, remember?"

He nodded but didn't play into her attempt to make light of it. There was nothing light about it and dammit why was she making it so hard for him? Why shouldn't she? Another voice spoke up in his head. He didn't deserve for it to be easy. Cal's brain was starting to hurt with all that was going on in it and the lump in his throat that had chased him to the bathroom minutes earlier was starting to threaten again. He swallowed hard in an attempt to silence it and found himself hoping to choke on it and die because death would mean not having to hurt her any more than he already had.

"I wasn't at the bar," he started again, feeling his composure slipping and then off the frown furrowed on her face he added, "Well I was but not the whole time." His voice was thick with fear and Cal thought he was lucky to have made it that far when it was taking all his strength not to be sick right there.

"Stop," her tone was commanding when she spoke and he startled a bit at the sound of it. "Cal, you don't have to do this. I mean, we're okay. You don't have to-"

"Gill…"

"No Cal, I mean it. Don't."

No, not commanding, he corrected himself, it was pleading. He was right, of course she knew there was something wrong.

Gillian stood rooted to the spot as she watched the inward battle behind Cal's eyes. He hadn't been himself lately and at first she had thought it was about the case; he was always too hard on himself. But now, now the knot in her stomach was saying something else. There was more to it than that and every fibre in her body protested at her finding out what it was. His mouth was moving fast but the cloud in her head made it impossible for her to know what he was saying. She was hardly there at all. Her eyes moved slowly over him, his shoulders were slumped and he wasn't looking at her. Suddenly there it was, plain as day. The torment she'd seen etched on every line of his face over the past few days; the terror that crept unbidden across his features when he thought no-one was looking. She saw it now; the source of his anguish…

It was guilt.

And now that it had a name, Gillian saw it mercilessly emphasize every vile inch of his face, casting a heavy shadow that all but drowned out his eyes' desperate plea for forgiveness. His voice filtered through to her as if cushioned in a box, hollow and weak. _… wasn't what you needed… wish I could take it back…_ Gillian kicked herself. She'd seen that face before. How could she overlook it this time? The answer whispered to her from the back of her mind. Because this time it was Cal. He was her protector, her safe place. He would never hurt her like that. Not like that. _…so sorry, Gill… and Wallowski wasn't_ _… you don't deserve …_ Gillian's entire system shut down at the sound of the name and suddenly the room they were standing in was very small and breathing became difficult. Of all the women he could choose from, and Gillian knew Cal's options were wide and varied, he had chosen her. And it was as if hearing the name brought her back to the moment, to what was happening in front of her along with the painful realization that it was not a dream but a sick joke of a reality.

A blaze started up in her chest, hot and unbridled and now Cal wasn't saying anything but his face was speaking; probably louder than she would have wanted. And the walls; they weren't crumbling, they were crashing down. And closing in. She couldn't breathe. And the stars in her chest died out. And all the words she wished would spill out of her mouth had simply caught in her throat; the horror of her realization dropping to the pit of her stomach like a rock.

Or her heart.

And suddenly her ability to stand was called into question as her knees buckled; the wall behind her the only thing keeping Gillian from joining her heart on the floor. And all that she knew and believed to be true about love, life and everything left her head at once; leaving in its wake just one thought that reeled and made mockery of every ideal she had ever held about him. It blanched and burned as it destroyed the final remnants of the girl who got lost in soppy romance novels and it seemed to laugh; enjoy it almost. And as it reeled and relentlessly mocked, the thought found her voice trembling somewhere inside her. Almost forgotten. And she opened her mouth, afraid of what she might hear but needing to hear it nonetheless;

"I can't do this." Her tone was soft, almost defeated.

"Gill…"

"Just… stop." Gillian found her voice a little louder, a little more stern.

Cal complied this time. The anger he heard in her voice surprised him a little. Why though? Had he expected her to be a sobbing mess on the floor? Perhaps. She was moving now. Cal followed her as she made her way to the kitchen, almost running to keep up.

"Gill-" Her name felt like poison on his tongue; like he didn't deserve the honor of speaking it anymore.

Cal made a grab for her arm as she made to pick up her bag and coat, and what happened next happened quickly and all at once.

"Don't touch me," she spat, her voice painfully restrained but her eyes black with rage.

Gillian spun round in a fury, clawed his hand from her and shoved him with significant force that made his hip and the corner of the kitchen counter meet in an agonizing way. They heard the contents of her bag clatter to the floor as it fell but neither took their eyes off the other. Both Cal's hands went to the stab of pain that was now starting to throb and he looked up at her in shock.

"Gill-" he tried again, not sure what the rest of his sentence would be but somehow all the possible sentences he could think of needed to start with her name.

He watched as she glowered at him; her face twisted in an uncomfortable mix of pain, anger and what Cal easily identified as humiliation. It was too much to bear and he let his eyes drop from hers again. The air around them felt heavy, claustrophobic almost and all of a sudden he wished that he had not said anything.

Gillian looked down at the mess now scattered at their feet, a perfectly ugly metaphor and she fell to her knees, not at all surprised at how easily they gave way. Frantic, she started gathering the spilled items, an action that would have been simple enough if it weren't for her shaking hands. The hot tears that blinded her made her fumble around and Gillian could feel Cal's gaze burn into the back of her head as she worked. She was okay, a broken heart was something she was good at overcoming, the voice in her head was telling her. It was that voice, Gillian thought bitterly and not ungratefully, that was keeping it together for her. The hurt and disappointment she felt was being channeled into anger and that was okay. Cal would not get the satisfaction of seeing her break. He would not get the privilege of front row tickets to that show. Not if she could help it. A sick chuckle built up in her throat but died quickly again. Wasn't this the reason she kept her distance from him in the first place? She knew he was damaged and that he had his demons, and if being his closest friend was hard of course it would be harder if she were even closer. But of all the myriad of ways Cal could hurt her, she had never figured betrayal into the equation. Not once. I was supposed to be good for him, she thought. I was supposed to be the person who changed all of that. (And he was supposed to be the one person who didn't hurt me, another voice whispered sickly in the back of her head)

Gillian froze as she felt Cal slowly kneel down next to her and start replacing the strewn contents of her bag. She didn't dare look at him and she knew he was making the same effort.

"I wish it never happened. I wish I could go back." His voice was low as he spoke and didn't break his movements as he picked up her wallet and slowly slid it into her bag.

"But it did happen," she heard her voice say from somewhere far away. "And you can't go back."

"I stopped. You were in my head and I – I could smell you, taste-"

"Shut up." She was shaking now not with rage but with the effort it was taking to not fall apart.

"Gillian please."

"Please? Please what, Cal?"

They were looking at each other now, both on their knees and their faces inches apart – the task they had been busying themselves with long forgotten. Cal searched her face but the more he looked at her, the more she wasn't there. He swallowed hard as the realization dawned on him - she was gone and there was nothing he could do that would bring her back. But she was there, close enough to grab hold of and beg and plead with and that broke his heart more than anything.

"Don't do this." It was a whisper that barely played at her ears before being swallowed by the room.

"You did this, Cal," Gillian managed to say through her trembling lips. His face was a blur before her as she fought with everything she had to not let the tears that filled her eyes fall. "I was the one, the only one h-holding onto us with everything I had. I took the knocks and got right back up and kept going. And when you couldn't – I fought for the both of us. I did it, Cal… so why couldn't you?"

The last of her words dissolved into her sobs with what remained of Gillian's composure and the tears that threatened now spilled unabated. She made no effort to wipe them away, distracted by Cal's face that was now slowly coming into focus; his anguish marking every line. He looked a hundred years old. And broken, she added as an after thought. It was the saddest thing she had ever seen and Gillian's heart broke for him as much as it did for her. But she couldn't play savior to a man that didn't want to be saved.

"Please don't look at me like that." Cal's voice cracked and Gillian realized that he had been crying too.

"I was never that man, Gill. The one who never lets you down. I wish I could've been. More than you know. Because-" his voice cracked again and Cal swallowed back the lump in his throat. "- because he's the one who gets to have you. Not me. I mess up. And I can beg you to give me a chance to make it right…to be that man. I want to say don't go. Find that place where you loved me despite. That place where you can forgive me. All of these things are going on in my head, Gill." Her name again. But this time it was soft and sweet and reminiscent of a time when they were best friends and lovers and nothing in the world could hurt them.

Before he knew what he was doing, his hand was on her cheek and his thumb was gently wiping at the stream of tears that were still falling. The soft skin under his palm was warm and wet and the ache in his heart was an actual physical pain that made it hard to breathe.

"But your face," he continued. "All the hurt... I did that." Cal was sure to have her eyes when he said this, and he was glad to see that she didn't look away. He needed her to see him, he needed her to see everything he was and wasn't saying. "So instead of all that I'm just going to say I'm sorry, Gill. I'm so fucking sorry." A loud sob escaped him that surprised them both but not more than the feel of Gillian's hand as she kept his from falling from her cheek. He looked up at her wide-eyed as she held on to him.

"I never asked you to be anything other than yourself," Gillian started, the anger she felt earlier completely absent from her tone and the tears finally slowing down and stopping. "I love _you_, Cal. And after everything… I thought you could just love me back. That was all I wanted. Not perfection, or that man. Just you." She lowered her hand then and brought it to her lap, still holding onto him.

They looked down, both entranced by the touch and feel of the other as if it had never happened before. As if it would never happen again. Then, without knowing why, Gillian laced her fingers through his. A soft smile flickered for only an instant as she thought of how well they fitted together.

"What you see..." she said finally, looking up at him again, "…my face - it isn't hurt because you turned out not to be that man. It's pain because you didn't believe me when I said you were enough. It's because you believed I'm better off without you when you are the one thing... the only thing – " her voice trailed off as Gillian removed her hand and slowly returned his to him. Cal looked down at it as if it were an abomination, something that only worked when entwined with hers.

"But I'm tired," her voice brought him back and he met her gaze. "Tired of the constant fight…of trying to make you okay and then me being the one who's not okay. And I want to say I agree with you. We could be worth fighting for. But your face. It's telling me you still don't think you deserve a chance. And I can't keep doing this, Cal."

There were no more words after that and soon Cal was the only one in the house; the kitchen growing cold as if in harmony with the last of the love that had left it. But he stayed where he was - kneeling on the ground, staring at his hand that had moments before held that of the woman he loved more than anything. And this is where the sun would find him when dawn broke; not crying or sleeping or thinking but kneeling. Kneeling and staring at an empty hand he no longer wanted.

* * *

Everything was the same. Only, it wasn't. Gillian felt a strange sense of unease in her own home, like she didn't belong there. Which is crazy, she thought, because this is my home. But Gillian knew that it wasn't that simple. For the better part of a decade Cal had defined her place in the world. He was part of everything – her career, her life. And yet… Gillian moved slowly as she dropped her coat on the sofa while walking past it, her bedroom looming down the hall. _And yet what? _I'm okay, came that voice again. Her legs still worked as they carried her into her bedroom, her hands hardly trembled at all as they started her shower, and her face… it was the same one that stared back at her from that same mirror earlier that day. And it wasn't crying. She was okay.

The water scalded her skin as she stepped into the steaming shower, the bathroom already covered in a misty haze. Gillian made to turn the cold water down even more. The heat was good, it made her skin tingle in reaction to every flaming drop – a perfect distraction to how little was going on inside. She felt numb. But she was okay, that was the important part. She would sleep and in the morning she would think and there would be a way forward. She was good at that, moving on. And before long all of this would just be a necessary lesson that would guide every decision she will ever make for the rest of her life.

* * *

**This is not the part where you give up hope. No such part exists.**

_TBC_


	13. Chapter 13

_**Years later she was clearing out her desktop computer getting ready to sell the dinosaur in order to upgrade and that is when she stumbled across this... It was so long ago, she told herself. What's the use in posting? she continued. But then, like any true Callian fan would think, she thought - let's do it... everyone needs closure. **_

_**So here we are. And here's some closure. Only, I'm going to hold it out one chapter at a time. Because this is how it happened and this is how you have to read it... if you still care. - CB**_

* * *

"God, you're gorgeous," Christian said with a smile as Gillian opened her front door to greet him.

Despite feeling entirely drained and lackluster, she still managed to radiate an effortless kind of beauty. Sans make-up, her hair was done up in a messy pony tail and she had chosen to lounge the day away in her favorite jeans and old t-shirt that retained just enough of its color to bring out her eyes in a way that if you weren't ready for it, could stun you into a moment of silent awe. Offering nothing more than a tired smile to Christian, Gillian held the door open for him to come in.

"Whoa, you were serious," he said as his eyes moved around the living room filled with moving boxes.

"I haven't been in much of a joking mood lately, so yeah. Tea?"

Christian turned to catch the last of her disappear into the kitchen and followed suit, shaking his head as he tried to grasp the sudden change in his friend. Her voice sounded as empty and hollow as the house felt. With bare walls and dust covers thrown over the furniture, it had an almost eerie feel to it. It was the same kind of empty you feel when someone close to you dies and it was not a feeling he would ever have associated with Gillian Foster.

"If you want me to drink your tea, you have to tell me why I'm here," he said as he stood beside her while they waited for the water to boil.

"I'm not ready to sell and I don't want to rent it out to just anybody while I'm gone."

"Gillian-"

"Christian-"

The name game. It was a game she had played with Cal so many times when he was being obnoxious and she was trying to get through to him. Gillian felt a pang across her chest as icy fingers tightened around her heart and squeezed into a fist. Thinking about him was not easy and although she worked hard to keep those moments at bay, there were times when they would sneak up on her and she would be back on the kitchen floor at Cal's house, using every bit of her resolve to keep from falling apart.

"Hey, I'll give up my apartment for this place in an instant," Christian continued. "But you know as well as I do that talking helps. Maybe all of this just isn't necessary," he said.

"My life has followed the same pattern for as long as I can remember. Always the same bad choices; always the same consequences. I thought I had changed… with Cal… I thought I had changed and things were different. But it turns out… I'm still the same, and so is everything else." Gillian had spoken without looking up from the cups of tea she was preparing; it was almost as if she were speaking to herself.

"Whatever this is, I'm willing to bet it's not your fault. There is nothing wrong with you; there is nothing you have to change."

"Then why does it keep happening to me? If it's not me, then what is it?" This time she looked up at him, her eyes begging for an answer she knew he didn't have. The ever-present knot in her stomach reminding her that it was one she didn't have either.

"Remember college?"

"You're bringing up your hair? Seriously?"

"I did have good hair," Christian said, "but that's not what I'm talking about this time."

"That's a first."

"Back then," he continued seriously, "do you know why we didn't work?" Gillian watched him intently as she listened and Christian's gaze bore into her. After a moment's pause of dramatic proportion, he leaned in to her and said softly, "I loved my hair more than you."

The unexpected comedic spin set forth a bellow of laughter from Gillian, whose hands flew to cover her mouth as if to stop the sound. The laugh surprised her more for the fact that she didn't believe it was still there than that his humor could be so painstakingly well-timed. She looked up to see him laughing too but there was somberness behind his eyes that made hers start to slowly die down. There was more…

"Alec," he said eventually, when all she had left was a goofy grin on her face. "There was no competing with him even before you guys officially met."

Gillian dropped her eyes to the tea in front of her and thumbed the warm cup slowly, a soft smile still lingering on her lips. Of course she remembered. She had been dating Christian and things were good, but somehow it just wasn't enough. Alec had caught her attention for whatever reason and she just couldn't get him out of her head. After going back and forth trying to decide if a future with Christian was what she wanted, Gillian eventually decided to follow her heart. It led to the man who would break it a few years down the line.

"I was stupid," she said looking up again.

"You loved him," Christian argued. "He was mostly okay, crazy smart and you loved him. See where I'm going with this?" Gillian felt her insides tighten again but didn't attempt to answer him. "Gill, this time, after everything… why didn't we stand a chance?"

"Your hair will always come first?" she said flatly. This time they both knew that it was a joke that was dead before it had a chance and there was no laughter.

"You love him," Christian responded. "Me telling you to forget all about it and move on won't work because I was there, I saw how happy you were with him. He may be an ass but… you love him."

"If you knew what Cal-"

"I already know. I saw it the second I looked at you. And then of course the boxes aren't very cryptic either. There's very little that would make the Gillian I know turn out and give up on her happy ending. So it's actually quite obvious to the person who knows you as well as I do."

"So you know, and yet you're pleading his case?" Gillian asked, incredulous.

"It may not seem like it right now, Gill, but I'm actually pleading yours," he said simply and finished his tea, feeling her unwavering stare on him the whole time. Only after the cup was entirely empty did Christian look up at her again.

"Alec and Cal are as different as night and day but… there's something pretty basic that they share. It's what drew you to them in the first place. With me it was my hair but that was never interesting enough for you. You always needed more."

"I wish you'd been enough," Gillian said and meant every word.

"You and me both," Christian replied softly and bent down to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. It came effortlessly sweet and after he left, Gillian was grateful for the friend she had in Christian Rourke.

But distance was the perfect catalyst to a clear head and even though he had advised against it, she knew that she was right in her decision to get away. A clear heart however, was harder to come by and Gillian had been preparing for the tenuous process that loomed ahead. It wouldn't be a permanent move, couldn't be; the process would eventually bring her back. Just thinking about it made the knot in her stomach press up all the way until it lodged itself in her throat.

_He may be an ass but… you love him._

Christian's words floated back to her but Gillian fought them off with a brave face as she made her way up to her bedroom. It was one of the last rooms that needed to be packed up and she had been putting it off for a while. In two days she would wake up in a new city, a new space and hopefully a new life. Distance was what she needed. Distance was going to make her whole again.

Standing on the threshold to her room she froze for a second. She had left this one for last because it was the last place he still lingered. Cal had been systematically wiped from her life as she moved through the house, packing things up and throwing things out. Here though, here they were still happy. There was no betrayal here, no mistrust. And she wanted to hold on to it for as long as she could, for as long as it would let her. Gillian leaned in and grabbed the doorknob with one finger, slowly pulling the door closed. Maybe she'd hold on to it just a little bit longer. Another cup of tea wouldn't hurt.

* * *

"It's not that time already is it?" Cal said as he walked in to his office to find William Hunt, the attorney for The Lightman Group, fingering his African fertility idol with mild curiosity.

"I was told you were tied up in the lab and that you'd be a while but no, quarterly reports is not why I'm here," William responded, taking a seat on the other side of Cal's desk as the doctor assumed his signature lean in his own chair.

"It's never too long when I'm doing it," Cal chided, "and why are you here then?"

William's face was grave as he looked Cal over. After a few seconds, a wan smile broke onto his features that sparked a suspicion in Cal instead of appeasing him as he was sure it was meant to do. The attorney leaned over and removed two folders from his briefcase and by the way he next looked at Cal, no further explanation was necessary.

"You've met with Foster."

"Dr. Foster called me a week ago, yes. There were some things she wanted to –"

"Save the sugar coating, would you? I never had much of a sweet tooth. How much is she taking me for?"

"Once Dr. Foster arrives we'll get started. How's your daughter? I heard she's spending some time traveling," William hoped the blatant change of subject would deter Cal from pursuing the topic at hand.

_Once Doctor Foster arrives… _

The rest of the attorney's words faded to a mumbled drone as a bitter, metallic taste started up in Cal's suddenly dry mouth and his lungs somehow forced his breathing to shallow out and quicken. The meeting was entered into his diary but there was no note pertaining to what it would be about and there was definitely no mention of other attendees. Cal had assumed it would be just another quarterly but the look of sympathy on William's face didn't fit that assumption. He knew then that it wasn't going to be the usual business humdrum. Now this.

Now Gillian was suddenly scheduled to appear and he was in no way ready for it. Cal worked to keep his breathing even despite the fact that his heart was hammering in his ears and his hands had grown cold and clammy as the blood rushed away from his skin to the major organs in his body in what could best be described as a typical fight-or-flight response.

Fight: He would tap in to his reserves of Calm and Collected that he saved for moments such as these and not give in to the mounting terror rising in him. Gillian would show up and be the poised picture of perfection. He would die a thousand deaths but feign professionalism for William's sake. She would take him through her demands stipulated in the folders. He would give in to every one of them. She would know how sorry he was for hurting her. He would hold her gaze and let his eyes apologize too many times before they told her he would never love anyone the way he loved her. She would leave. He would never see her again.

Flight: He would tap in to his reserves of Cowardice that he saved for moments such as these and excuse himself to go to the bathroom before Gillian arrived. He would not come back.

A simple hello would have sufficed but even that evaded him as Cal stood face to face with Gillian. Suddenly becoming aware of his surroundings once again, he found himself at the door to his office… _on his way out?_ He took a breath as the wheels in his brain clicked back into motion and he realized that his body had decided to flee the scene without bothering to let him know.

Cal's mind lunged fruitlessly from pillar to post as it tried to find the best way to break the seemingly impenetrable sheath of silence that had enveloped them. In the end it was Gillian who spoke first, but even then it didn't make the impossible science of words any simpler for him.

"Cal," the stilted greeting came from her perfect lips that tried to break into a polite smile but failed and so remained pursed.

His response was even worse: raised eyebrows and a slight nod of acknowledgment before stepping silently aside for her to enter his office. Cal's words were playing their best ever game of hide and go seek and he fought hard to regain his composure as he watched Gillian walk in and sit beside William at his desk. Their voices said things but none of it made sense to Cal as he used deep breaths to move the bile in his throat to a less threatening location in his body.

Was it still considered a Fight if the only reason you stayed was because your initial strategy of Flight had been foiled?

"Let's have it then," he said evenly as he sat down, careful not to give away every last detail racing through his mind or the chaos burning through his veins by keeping his face blank.

William nodded and sighed heavily. He had a feeling that this meeting would not be easy; dealing with Cal Lightman very rarely was. He fished around in the breast pocket of his suit and pulled out reading glasses. Opening the topmost folder, he started to read…

"Yeah, you don't have to do that," Cal broke in as the first word formed in William's mouth.

"Cal, there are processes that we –"

"Leave me a copy then and I'll get to the processes later. Right now I want it straight."

The attorney started to speak again but this time it was Gillian who silenced him with a light touch to his arm.

"It's okay," she said and turned her attention to Cal again. Taking a deep, steadying breath she said the words he had been fearing…

"Cal, I've decided to terminate my partnership with The Lightman Group." She stopped then and waited for a response but Cal didn't look like he was going to give one. Aside from his tightly clenched jaw, his face was devoid of any feeling or thought. "I know that my shares can't be settled right away so I've made some suggestions that you can look over."

"Dr. Foster has suggested you sell them off to interested parties, starting with the junior associates. Eli Loker and Ria Torres are so named in the contract," William said and Gillian allowed herself to exhale slowly, grateful for the intervention.

She had been nervous about joining William at the meeting. For starters, she didn't know if this was exactly what she wanted their first post-break conversation to be like. In her head, that meeting had grown to epic proportions seen only in the grandest and most tragic romance novels. Secondly, she was afraid of what she would find when she stepped in to his office. Naturally, Cal had worked hard to keep his guard up the whole time but when he had first opened the door there was a fleeting moment of raw emotion that she thought looked a lot like fear.

"She has also stated a willingness to work out a payment arrangement whereby the buy-out will work similar to a monthly salary until the total cost of the shares in question has been reached. Furthermore," William's voice brought her back into the room and she saw him holding out the other folder to Cal who made no move to take it. It stayed suspended in mid air between them though as the attorney continued.

"Dr. Foster has proposed a new agreement that she wants you to look over. It outlines the offer of her expertise to The Lightman Group on a consulting basis." He waved the folder at Cal again but still he made no attempt to take it. This time William gave up and placed it down with the first one in front of him. "Well that's about as succinct as I can manage. Unless there is anything you would like to add?"

"Everything you need to know is in the documents," she said to Cal, glad that her voice sounded more controlled than she felt. "I'd appreciate it if you could go through them so we can have them signed before the end of this week."

Cal leaned back in his chair and eyed Gillian contemplatively. He wasn't even trying to read her because he knew with the mess in his head he would probably come up on the wrong side of it. So he just looked at her… because he could.

"If you have any questions I'd be happy to-"

The rest of William's sentence disappeared as Cal suddenly straightened and pulled the documents closer to him. Gillian tried to say something too but her mouth simply hung in an open o as she watched Cal quickly scribble his signature on the pages that required it.

"I'll get you your money. Don't bother with all that monthly arrangement shite," he was speaking to Gillian but kept his eyes lowered because for some unfathomable reason they had glazed over and he'd be damned if anyone caught a hint of the intense vulnerability he was feeling in that moment. He pushed the folders back across his desk to William and stood up. "And forget about that consulting bollocks. I'm not signing that one. You want out, you're out."

Gillian watched as Cal disappeared into his study and when she looked at William, her surprise was mirrored on his face.

"Well, I guess that does it," he said simply and rose from his seat as well, gathering the folders and his briefcase. "I will get the ball rolling on these. I'll be in touch."

Gillian responded with a curt nod, not even looking at him, barely hearing him. Of all the scenarios she had played out in her head of how this meeting would go, that was not one of them. If this was truly what she wanted then why had Cal's cold acceptance of it all struck her so deeply? Where was the defiance? Where was the argument, negotiation, bargaining? Why had she not considered that he would simply give in?

* * *

Cal looked up as the door to his study slowly opened to reveal Gillian.

"Is there something else you want me to sign away?" he asked callously, his hurt coming through as anger.

"I'm leaving in two days," she said simply. "Vancouver."

"I thought private practice wasn't what you wanted."

"For now it's what I need."

Cal nodded and the silence that fell over them seemed to take on life that choked back any words he may have wanted to say and threw them back into the confines of his mind. Gillian still stood at the door, looking at him as if she were waiting for something. If there was something, she wasn't giving any hint as to what it could be. So the two of them simply stood there, looking at each other and not saying anything. After a few seconds that felt like hours:

"I should probably tell you that Christian will be staying at the house while I'm away," Gillian offered carefully. "I'll be back in a few months and I don't feel ready to sell just yet so-"

"Why not? You just sold out of the Group, didn't you? Why not throw the house in there while you're at it? Clean break and all."

Gillian pursed her lips tightly to hold back a quick response that wasn't thought through. She was finally getting honesty from Cal and didn't want to say anything that might put him back on the defensive. It took a lot from her not to shrink under his glare but this was not the point when she would back down for him. That point no longer existed.

"You know what?" Cal was going on, his temper rising as he did. "I didn't think you'd sink this low."

"Excuse me?" Gillian wasn't sure which emotion should take precedence at that point – shock, offence, defiance, anger – so she let them all just do as they pleased and the first consequence was her raised voice.

"What happened is between you and me. Bringing it to the company like this, it's childish. Your decision affects other people, not just me."

"My decision affects me," she countered. "This is about me, Cal, not us or other people."

"Oh, so they're just collateral damage then?"

"You're the one being childish."

"Am I?"

He wasn't holding back anymore. As much as he knew Gillian's actions were not beyond reasonable, Cal felt the future of his company grow dimmer by the second and the thing that he spent his life building was dying a slow and drawn out death.

"Am I wrong to assume that you couldn't accomplish what you wanted with an extended leave of absence? Why do you have to sell up and leave?"

The loud and exaggerated sound of someone clearing their throat came from inside the office and put an instant stop to the brewing shouting match. Gillian turned first as she was closest and Cal followed her out of the study.

"What's with the face, Lightman? You look like you've seen a ghost," Wallowski said.


	14. Chapter 14

"The prodigal cop returns," Cal said, successfully masking his initial shock at suddenly seeing Wallowski in his office. "Did I say 'prodigal'? Sorry, I meant to say 'dirty'."

"You should know," she shot back without missing a beat and utterly enjoyed the pained expression that clouded Cal's features. The detective also noticed that her innuendo was not lost on Gillian either and the idea that the love of Cal's life knew about his indiscretion amused her to no end.

"Dr Lightman," a voice came from Cal's right and he realized for the first time that there was an official looking man and woman in the room as well. "I'm Agent Hensley and this is Agent Crawford," the male agent began. "New evidence regarding the Melissa Creaver case has been found that we'd like to talk to you about."

"Why are you here and since when is the FBI involved?" Cal spoke to Wallowski.

The detective was carefully eyeing Gillian the whole time, which made him nervous but his interest in the case was greater than his anxiety of what might unfold between the two women. It was the case, after all, that set the derailing of his entire life into motion so swiftly.

"This was my case before my suspension so I've been given an unofficial consulting status. As for the feds, they were called in after the second murder," Wallowski said plainly.

"Second? The girl –"

"It's Peter Rylands," Agent Hensley interrupted Cal, putting a quick stop to the internal terror that started up when he thought that the little girl had been the victim Detective Wallowski was referring to.

"His body turned up early this morning. We're still waiting for the coroner's report but time of death looks to be more than ten hours ago."

"I don't understand." It was the first time Gillian spoke and the tone of her voice was loaded with the bewildered struggle she was experiencing at the time.

Her profile on Peter Rylands had been dead on. Developments in the case thus far had pointed to Peter using Carl as a distraction so that he could get away with the girl he considered his daughter. When it came to light that Carl was nothing more than a fall guy, Gillian had assumed that Peter would make contact with the authorities regarding a ransom of some kind and iterated this to the cops. The full search they had established upon Alice's disappearance had petered out over the past few weeks as it became less probable that Peter would cause the young child any harm. What they decided to do instead was play the waiting game and let Peter come to them. Gillian would never have guessed that it would be in a body bag. Naturally, it begged the most obvious question – if Peter Rylands was dead, where was Alice?

"Oh now, don't go wasting all your excitement on that, Dr. Foster, it's about to get a whole lot cosier," Wallowski chipped in.

"There's something else," Agent Hensley continued, as if on cue. "He was carrying this." The agent removed a small evidence bag from his inside breast pocket and held it out to the room at large.

Both Cal and Gillian stepped forward to get a closer look and realization dawned on them at the same time. Cal was first to react though, and grabbed the bag from the agent to better inspect the contents.

"After you pick your jaw up from the floor you can explain what the hell it means," Wallowski said.

Cal simply shook his head as he wrestled with an unholy mixture of confusion and shock, while staring down at a perfect copy of one of his business cards. It must have been a copy; he had no recollection of giving Peter his card in the brief time they had together when Cal had questioned him. He looked up eventually to find everyone in the room staring at him expectantly; even Gillian looked like she was waiting for some kind of explanation. Embarrassed to find he didn't have any words for the umpteenth time that day, Cal looked back down at the card in the plastic bag, as if glaring at his name emblazoned on it would rearrange the letters into some kind of prompt that would jumpstart his brain.

"Turn it over," the disembodied voice of the female agent reached Cal and he obeyed without fuss.

_The best don't make mistakes_

His lips moved silently as he read the words and shook his head again. As much as he was trying to make the connection, his brain was a muddled and immovable block.

"What is it?" Gillian asked and took the bag from Cal. "The best don't make mistakes," she read aloud and then handed it back to the agent. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"That is why we're here," Hensley said. "It would seem that Dr Lightman is connected to this case somehow, has always been and we need to figure out what that is sooner rather than later now that we can assume Alice is no longer safe."

"What would my connection be exactly?" Cal's words finally found form and rushed out of his mouth. "I've never seen these people before in my life."

"I'd ask you for a list of people who might want to get back at you for something you did but we don't have that much time," Wallowski chirped. "Also, doing that would make me a prime suspect because I'm sure I'd make the top five of that list." She gave a wry smile and a sideways glance at Gillian that made the doctor's skin crawl.

It was hard being in the same room with her so soon after what had happened. It was something Gillian hadn't even thought about let alone prepared for. All of her time was spent thinking about Cal and what it would be like to see and speak to him again. She never considered that she would ever have to deal with Detective Wallowski, especially since she was so close to leaving. What made matters worse was that the detective seemed to be enjoying the awkward tension she had created and Gillian was left biting her lip in the name of professionalism.

"The card," Gillian said in an effort to bring the attention back to the matter at hand and also to get her brain back on track, "it's an old one."

"She's right. I haven't used these in over three, four years?" Cal looked up at Gillian who nodded.

"That's great," Crawford jumped in. "It gives us a timeline to work with. That list Detective Wallowski was talking about-"

"We have a package deal with a local printing company that gives us discounted rates on our business cards as long as we order new ones every year or so," Gillian said, now starting to get excited as well.

"Perfect," Crawford pressed on, "that'll help us narrow things down. We can send a digital print of the business card to the company you use and they should be able to give us a print date."

"Right, just think of every person I might have handed my card to over a two year period, five years ago?" Cal chided. He wasn't as confident as they seemed.

"We could start with your little black book," Wallowski said and everyone looked at her in puzzlement. "You do still leave your card with the hookers you see, right?"

"Enough!" Gillian's voice erupted from her before she knew it would but now that it had happened she bared down on Wallowski. "A little girl's life is hanging in the balance and the best you can do is make underhanded jokes that really isn't helping the situation. You're not even supposed to be here!"

"We have to consider everyone Cal might have-"

"Shut up! Just, shut up." Gillian tore into Wallowski's attempt to defend her snide comments. "This might have been your case," she continued, her voice was level but straining under the forced control she was using to keep from losing her temper, "and you might have permission to be unofficially involved, whatever that means, but this is my house," she stepped in to Wallowski until she was right in her face, "and in my house you play by my rules and right now that starts with being professional and shutting. the hell. up." Gillian glared at the detective for longer than was needed before stepping back again, leaving her silent.

"I need to speak to Carl Bleaker," Gillian spoke lightly to the agents as if that little confrontation had not just happened. "Do you still have him in custody?"

"Yes, his bail hearing is on Friday and he's taking the insanity plea which he might get, so we only have him for one more day," Hensley said slowly and too formally, as if he was afraid Gillian might have a go at him as well.

"Good, can we go now?" she asked.

"You can drive with us," Crawford offered and they all started out of the office.

"Wait, one more thing" Gillian said and the others turned around in time to see her advancing on Wallowski, who had been lagging behind the group.

Without so much as a hint of what was about to happen, Gillian let rip with a dazzling right hook that made the detective stumble back in an effort to regain her footing. Gillian turned to see the open-mouthed astonishment on the FBI agents' faces and a cheeky grin on Cal's.

"Screw professionalism," she said almost to herself and walked out of the office with what could only be described as an air of victory.

* * *

When Cal walked into the visitors' area at the prison there was a renewed spring in his step and he felt on his game for the first time in months. Despite the topic of their morning meeting, seeing Gillian come to his defense and then clock Wallowski a fat one did more than lift his spirits – it gave him hope. She was quiet on the drive over, but not cold or stand-offish, just quiet. Cal knew that her mind was thrumming with the new developments in the case and what it might mean. He was almost thankful that Peter had turned up when he had because it felt like the case that broke him might just end up being the case that put everything right again. If he and Gillian could work together again, and more importantly, if they could win together again, it could mean a new beginning. She would remember how much she loved her job, how much the Lightman Group needed her, and perhaps how much she wanted to stay. And if she stayed…

For now Cal knew that it was a hope to high heaven, but he was prepared to do everything in his power to help things along.

"I just got off the phone with Ria," Gillian said as she came up behind him. "I told her to get Eli and go through the case files and client lists from five years ago. Hopefully they find something."

"I've been wracking my brain-"

"None of this is your fault, Cal," she cut in and when he looked at her, he could see on her face that she meant what she said. "Cat and mouse games, they're products of highly unstable minds."

"Highly unstable and highly intelligent," he added.

Gillian's face adopted a grave expression. She knew that he was right. The case, the way things were playing out, it was all too perfectly orchestrated to be just a disgruntled client. They were in deep waters and she wasn't sure if they were going to be able to wade their way out of it.

"I keep thinking about Melissa," Cal's voice came to fetch Gillian from her wondering path. "That girl, her baby… they've all just been pawns in this sick game and I'm the one who's responsible."

"You're doing it again," she warned. "You can't keep thinking like that. What we need to do now is get to the bottom of this before any more innocent people get hurt."

Before Cal could do more than nod his acknowledgement of her point, the bars on the other end of the visitors' area rolled open with a loud clang and they both turned to see Carl Bleaker being led in, a sickly grin on his gritty face that made Cal's blood boil.

"I knew you'd come," he said and sat down as Cal and Gillian took seats opposite him at the table.

"How's the food?" Cal asked in an attempt to cut into Carl's air of egotism and bring the sense of authority to his own side of the table. The last thing he wanted was to allow some ingrate to think he had the upper hand.

"Everything's pretty much awful," Carl responded, the stupid grin still playing on his lips, "but I get out in a day so…"

"The DA owes me a favour and if you don't tell us what we need to know, I can make it so that your insanity plea gets thrown out and your stay is extended," Gillian said stiffly.

"See, if that threat had any weight, I'd be scared into co-operating right about now," Carl said. "But do you really think I would've gone through with anything if there was even the smallest chance that I'd end up in here for an extended stay?"

"When your bail gets posted, we'll have you and the person you're working for," Cal challenged him. The guy with the wormy little grin was seriously starting to get to him.

"I'm posting my own bail. So investigate away," was Carl's simple response.

"We'll put a trace on your account, find out how you got the money; there are many ways to skin a cat, Mr Bleaker."

"You're flailing," he told Cal. "You wouldn't be here if you had anything to go on, but you need my help and now that you know you're not going to get it…"

"Your daughter," Gillian started with sincerity, "Alice is in danger because of what you're doing. Chances are she's going to end up just the same as Melissa and Peter. You can help us stop that from happening. You can take this chance to be a father to her."

"To be honest I thought you'd lead with the kid," Carl said, not in the least affected by Gillian's appeal to his paternal side. "Again, do you think I would've done any of this-"

"So you think she's safe?" Cal asked, working hard to keep calm but he could feel his resolve dissipating every second that stupid grin stayed plastered on Carl's face. "Where is she? How is she safe?"

"We can protect you," Gillian said finally. "We can give you twice as much as this guy is paying you and we'll make you disappear. He'll never find you. Just give us a name. That's all we need."

"Forget it," Cal said suddenly and rose from his seat, drawing an exasperated look from Gillian who thought she was close to getting through to Carl. "We're not going to get anything from him and the longer we're in here, the less time we're spending on actually catching this guy." He didn't take his eyes from Carl's face as he spoke and Gillian caught a glimpse of a man she used to know.

Cal was playing, he saw something and it was enough to maybe break the case. She jumped up after him and left the smug Carl Bleaker to be taken back to his cell, where he would fall asleep thinking that everything was still going according to plan because he didn't know Cal Lightman as well as he thought.

* * *

When they finally returned to the office, Gillian had to hurry to catch up with Cal who was making his way to the lab like a man on a mission. He felt good, almost like his old self. The meeting with Carl didn't go well and they weren't expecting it to but Cal had what could only be described as a sense of hyper-alertness. It was like he could feel his blood coursing through his veins. Every thought, every movement had a weight and clarity that drove him closer and closer to resolving this case.

"Okay so tell me," she said when she finally managed to fall in step next to him. "You saw something back there, and you didn't want to talk about it in front of Hensley and Crawford on the way back." She grabbed his arm to force him to stop and look at her and the entire motion caught Cal a little by surprise, he was so lost in thought. For a second or two he just stared blankly at her.

"Every time you talked about the person Bleaker's working for as a male, the corner of his mouth twitched up," Cal explained when he finally slowed down the racing thoughts in his head.

"It's a woman," Gillian said, nodding her understanding. "He smiled because he was happy we were on the wrong track."

"It would also explain why he was never worried about the girl," Cal said as he started walking again, this time a bit more slowly and even though he was entirely engrossed in the case, the fact that Gillian was following closely next to him did not escape his attention.

"It goes against almost everything in the profile though. It's usually Caucasian males in their mid 30's to 50s who-"

"In other words, it's perfect," Cal interrupted her and she responded with a puzzled look. They were standing right outside the lab now and he turned to her, his one hand on the door handle. "Someone fitting a profile would be lost in a sea of would-be suspects."

"But someone against the grain would stand out," Gillian finished his train of thought with a sense of excitement.

"Like a sore thumb," Cal said and pushed into the lab with Gillian in tow.

"What happened? What's going on?" Torres was out of her seat as soon as she saw them come in.

"We haven't had much time," Loker said before either of them could respond. "I set up a simple system that takes the case numbers fed into it and scans through the data for key markers that we stipulate at the beginning of the search. It then feeds through-"

"That's all wonderful," Cal interrupted. "Now I need you both to stop what you're doing and help us with the Creaver case."

Loker and Torres looked first at each other and then at Cal and Gillian in complete confusion.

"I thought that was what we were doing," Torres said slowly.

"It took me two hours to get this system working and…"

"A for effort and all that, but it turns out we don't need the case files," Cal said.

"We don't?" Gillian asked, now joining Torres and Loker in their struggle to follow Cal's train of thought.

"The business card they found, it had something written on it," Cal started.

"The best don't make mistakes," Gillian filled in.

"After our little chat with Bleaker I'm convinced that we're looking for a woman and taking everything into consideration – whoever this is has been plotting this for a long time, has been watching me closely, knows me, how I think, how I act…"

"You know who this is?" Torres asked the question that was about to come from Gillian.

Cal didn't answer but walked over to the desk where Loker had been sitting minutes before. He watched the data scroll up the page but couldn't make head or tails of it.

"If I'm looking for a specific case," he asked and Loker immediately took up his seat.

"I need a date or keyword to start the search," he said. "Two or more keywords would be better, like a last name or something."

"2002, last name Benedict," Cal said simply and watched as Loker proceeded to enter the information into his adhoc search engine.

"Alicia Benedict," Gillian said and went to join them at the computer, Torres following close behind.

"Is that who's doing all this?" Torres asked.

"That would be a bit hard seeing as how she's dead," Cal said simply.

"We had a case that year that is pretty close to this one in-"

"Every way but one," Cal cut in. "The people are different."

"Melissa Jointner – she was a second year associate, a natural like you," Gillian said to Torres. "We let her handle her own cases because-"

"She was bloody brilliant," Cal finished her sentence.

"The other associates used to call her Cal's golden girl. He favoured her because of her ability."

"And then she screwed up, made a mistake that cost a woman her life."

"Alicia Benedict," Torres said, finally understanding.

"We let her go after that. Her mistake brought a lot of heat onto the Group and we couldn't afford it at the time," Gillian explained.

"I let her go, it was me," Cal said, his voice taking on a soft and almost melancholy tone. "I told her there was no room for mistakes in what we do. I said that the reason I'm the best is because I don't make mistakes."

"Talk about holding a grudge," Torres said.

"It's all perfectly laid out. She even left a little clue in Melissa Creaver – same name," Gillian explained.

"The case file is printing," Loker said as he got up and walked over to the printer.

"Good, go through it and see if you can spot any other clues that might help us find where she's keeping the girl. Whatever you two come up with, speak directly with me and Foster. Don't breathe a word to the police or FBI."

"I've been meaning to ask," Gillian said, "why are you keeping them in the dark about this? Why didn't you tell them what you saw at the prison?"

"If my hunch is right and this is Melissa we're dealing with, we're going to have to be discreet about tracking her down. She's obviously got eyes and maybe ears in places we couldn't know. Do you think Wallowski with her cowboy attitude knows the first thing about discretion?"

"What about the FBI? Why give them the big freeze?" Loker asked.

"They've got that detective following them around like a rabid dog. No way will anything I tell them be kept under wraps. Besides, we don't need them. This is our playground and we're playing with one of our own. Nobody's more qualified than me… and the three other people in this room," he ended after a beat.

Torres beamed at the indirect acknowledgment of her and Loker's abilities. After spending so much time trying to prove themselves and earn Cal's respect in their respective fields, it felt good to finally get it. She felt good knowing that in his time of crisis he chose to depend on them.

"Don't make me sorry I just said that and get cracking," Cal said and made his way to leave.

"Where are you going?" Gillian called after him.

"Lunch date with Em. She's Skyping in at 1. I'll make it quick and then I want to drive out to Melissa's, see if she's smart enough to hide in plain sight."

Cal disappeared through the door and when Gillian turned back to the room she saw both Loker and Torres sifting through the pages from the case file he had just printed. With all the stress about the case Gillian had almost forgotten what had brought her back to the office that morning, along with the fact that she had a plane ticket waiting for her at home that put her in Vancouver in two days. An internal battle started waging in her at that moment. Technically, she was under no obligation to stay and help with the case and staying might send the wrong message. She didn't want Cal to think that things were okay, even if they felt that way. Gillian admitted to herself that having the distraction of the Creaver case for the past few hours made it feel like things were normal again. Now that the rush of adrenalin had subsided a bit, the reality of the situation was baring down on her again. She had made a commitment to her friend that she would locum at his practice while he spent time in Africa. And yet…

"Hey, Foster," Loker's voice brought her out of her head and she looked up at him. "Good seeing you back," he said simply.

Gillian nodded and returned his smile although she wasn't sure if back was exactly what she was. The thought of leaving now though, when everything was still up in the air, when a grudge held for so many years and painstakingly played out in the ultimate revenge posed a threat to Cal's life… Who was she kidding, there was no way she was getting on that plane.


End file.
